


The Dragon Pact

by WampusRoar13



Series: The Dragonshore [1]
Category: DreamWorks Dragons (Cartoon), How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Dragons Stay on Berk, F/M, Inspiration from Playlist, M/M, Multi, Parents Struggle, Past Rape/Non-con, Possible Vikings Crossover, Stoick the Vast Lives, Westeros as a Legend of Berk, but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-01-20 17:34:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 95,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21285515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WampusRoar13/pseuds/WampusRoar13
Summary: When Hiccup stepped up to save both his father and his dragon, he once more diverts the future path of Berk. This looks at where Berk would be at the start of the next Dragon Racing season, with Stoick alive and Hiccup about to take the knee to become Chief. When he's offered a crown, there is one blast from his past that will take everyone by surprise.
Relationships: Eret/Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III, Fishlegs Ingerman/Ruffnut Thorston, Gobber the Belch/Stoick the Vast, Heather/Snotlout Jorgenson, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III/Astrid Hofferson, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III/Tuffnut Thorston, Hiccup/Surprise, Stoick the Vast/Grimmel the Grisly, Stoick the Vast/Valka
Series: The Dragonshore [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1628149
Comments: 16
Kudos: 23





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> All song lyrics pulled to inspire this story came from five songs. All credit goes to their creators for being inspirations. They were Clamavi De Profundis' Dragonshore and When the Hammer Falls, Karliene's The Dornishman's Wife and Kings of the Seas, and Heather Dale's True and Destined Prince. Please check all of them out, they are amazing.

Stoick had missed whittling when he became the Chief of Berk. As a teenager small wooden figurines had lined every flat surface of his father’s house and he’d been good at it. Tributes of his friends and family had been his specialty, as well as replicas of their serpentine foes. Thinking back on it, the auburn haired Chief could recall when Gobber, Alvin, and a visiting Oswald found his tributes to Valka and discovered his crush… That had been a long day.

Still, they were no longer at war with the dragons thanks to his son and Hiccup was well on his way to taking over as Chief of Berk. Since the young Viking’s defeat of Drago Bludvist, where he’d watched his heir come into his own when the twenty year old ordered Stoick to stay back and then rescued his best friend from the madman and the bastard’s Bewilderbeast, it had only been a matter of time. Bludvist had tried to seize Berk, thinking Hiccup dead in a block of ice at Valka’s nest, but wound up only on their island for his final judgement. And when he refused peace Hiccup had swung his sword, Dragonblade, to take the tyrant’s head himself. 

Now, with Valka home and Hiccup a Viking seasoned by war, Stoick had slowly started pushing his daily duties onto the younger man. He didn’t tell Hiccup that he was doing so, but in the year since his wife’s return there had been more and more free time. 

So, Stoick had rediscovered whittling. 

With his model of Toothless finished the night before, he had returned from the Great Hall after breakfast, where everyone was preparing for the start of Dragon Racing season, to start a statue of Hiccup to match it.

Berk was reaching new heights of political importance with Hiccup as Sergeant of Arms for the tribe, officially, and acting as Chief, unofficially. Toothless was ever at his side, along with his team of battle hardened Dragon Riders. Things were taking such a fine shape that Stoick had finally been able to summon Grimmel the Grisly back to Berk, in order to guide their son on this new, much larger, political front.

When Warmongers from the South had threatened the archipelago, before Valka was taken, held at bay only by their lack of knowledge on how to fight the dragons, all Vikings had banned together to forge a peace with those who would have overtaken them. The Great Chiefs had sworn to conquer the dragonshore and rid the Vikings of their reptilian enemy, in addition to sending off fleets of ships, armed to the teeth with warriors, down south to battle the growing dragon population there. All of it to form a one sided alliance with the Southerners, their only goal to keep them out of the North until they were strong enough to fight the threat to the Viking way of life. 

His first husband, Grimmel, had been part of the price they paid.

But, just like it had changed everything on the homefront, Hiccup’s friendship with Toothless also changed the destiny of Berk abroad. It was hard to believe that just over six years ago his son had been worshipping Grimmel as the Night Fury Killer and Pale Poacher. He’d longed to walk in his Ergi’s footsteps for all the wrong reasons, rather than realizing that he had gifts from the man that were sorely missed on their island, since Stoick’s husband departed to lead Berk’s fleet. 

Still, after the Battle of the Red Death, once Stoick was sure their son would make it, the Chief and Grimmel had begun making plans for him to return, and for Berk to lead a united Viking world against the Southern War Lords.

Then Drago had been sent by the Southerners before Grimmel could extricate himself and his fleet. Instead of catching Berk off guard and reigning destruction upon them as the War Lords planned, Hiccup had only proven how much more he was ready for. He had taken the head of his Ergi’s only equal and rival in the War Lords’ factions, without ever realizing who Bludvist was, and forced the Southerners to make an alliance of peace with Grimmel, allowing all Vikings to come home. 

Soon, any day now as a matter of fact, the legend would return to Berk and by then Stoick would demand Hiccup take his fur and set a time to marry Astrid. It was time and Berk would need something to celebrate as Hiccup led all Vikings, who were ready to name him their King, and their dragons, into another great battle. Neither he nor Grimmel were naive enough to think the War Lords would actually stay in the South for long.

He looked up when Gobber walked into the house alone. At his inquisitive brow Stoick’s second husband only shrugged, “Astrid wanted to talk to Valka.”

That made him hopeful. When a betrothed woman was ready to marry it was tradition that she seek out her mother-in-law, or father-in-law, if the other wasn’t available. For years he’d thought he’d be the one that Astrid would approach, but Frigga had other plans, “Do you think?”

“It seems likely,” Gobber admitted, “Odin knows, if it’s left to the boy they’ll never tie the knot. You’ve got him so busy running this place already! I thought the plan was to get him married before you sucked him into Chiefdom?”

Stoick could easily remember how heartbroken Grimmel was, no matter how the small Viking had tried to hide it in his letters, when he took another husband. It wasn’t Gobber, Hel there had been a time when Grimmel, Gobber, and Alvin had all been expected to take a place in his house, to aid he and Valka with the village and their children. However, after the loss of their wife and Grimmel’s forced departure to keep the South at bay, the knowledge that another would be the one to help him raise Hiccup had hurt the brilliant strategist. 

Having been on Berk to see the fierce bond that Gobber forged with his son through fire and blood, Stoick understood that jealousy. He reminded the blacksmith, “That was before Drago. He’s needed to be ready to lead at any moment ever since and manage the load. Although, I will agree that it’s long passed time to add marriage to the pile.”

Gobber sat with him at the table, studying the Chief’s face, “Have you heard from him?”

“No, if a fleet had reached Nadder Isle, Lady Ingerman would have sent word,” The Chief huffed, “Hiccup’s deploying Gustav’s regime to Bear Island next week. If he arrives after that they’ll spot the fleet first.”

“Oh, I’m sure that’ll be a nice welcoming party! A Monstrous Nightmare and a young Viking looking to prove himself to his idol; what could possibly go wrong?” Gobber asked sarcastically, “Why don’t we warn Hiccup? Maybe tell the team to get ahead of trouble?”

“Grimmel has done my bidding to keep the South at bay for twenty years,” Stoick reminded him, his large hand hitting the table for emphasis, “If his only request upon returning is that I let it be a surprise for Hiccup, I’m honoring that request.”

“I thought he said there was something to discuss?”

“That too!”

“Fine, but I just want it acknowledged both Valka and I think it’s a bad idea.”

“Fine,” Stoick shrugged, “How are preparations going for the first race?”

The first Dragon Race, the start of the racing season during the few warm months on Berk, was their biggest event besides Snoggletog. And Hiccup won every year since it started... Other than the Drago fiasco and that was technically a forfeit. Thor forbid, he say that to the boy again, Hiccup would just throw black sheep into Astrid’s basket again like he did at the Final Race the previous season.

If he could get his son alone for a few minutes today, Stoick hoped to be announcing his son to be marked as Chief at the end of the season. These days that was easier said than done unless someone was talking to the Sergeant on the run. Hel’s name, Astrid was probably ready for the wedding just so there was a reason Hiccup had to see her every day… That would be interesting once they moved out and the mighty Hofferson was the new Chief’s main advisor instead of him, Gobber, and Valka.

“It’s the biggest event since Hammish the Second took his fur, as requested,” Gobber informed him, “I know the big announcement got ruined last year with Drago, and repairs from the battle, and Valka’s return, of course, but we still don’t have to rush your retirement!”

“I am sick of you dragging your feet on this, Gobber…”

“I only got the one!”

“He is ready! He has been ready. Why are you trying to push this off so much? My gods, he’s a Viking! He’s the Viking that all Vikings are ready to name their King! We’ve done our job as fathers. I want my elder status and grandchildren immediately, for as long as Odin is willing!”

“He’s only twenty-one, Stoick! And he’s facing a kingdom and marriage, then soon fatherhood. What if it’s too much? The boy has united the Vikings of the world around dragons for six years! When he steps out against the South…”

“He carries all of us with him. He’s a Viking! He’s defended Berk and our allies from Red Deaths and foreign invaders with dragon armies for years now. His fur is screaming his name and so is the tribe!”

“He’s only twenty-one, Stoick!”

“And we were twenty!” The Chief shouted, “By his age Valka was pregnant and we were running things! At least be honest with me about why you stalled this all last season! Why you avoided him all year!”

“We were doing repairs,” Gobber muttered.

“Gobber!”

“He’s the only son we’ve got,” The smith finally whispered, “When he takes on those Warmongers what if something goes wrong? What if he…”

Realizing what his husband couldn’t quite say, the Chief sighed. Slouching in his chair, the larger man reached over and grabbed the blonde’s remaining hand, “He’s a Viking; it’s an occupational hazard.” That earned him a glare from his husband of twenty years, “We can’t stop him, Gobber. We could only prepare him and we’ve done that... But he knows you’re resistant to him accepting the crown, so he’s been putting it off. We can’t always be there to protect him.”

“An elephant never forgets,” Gobber huffed, running his hook over Stoick’s finished tribute to Toothless, his husband only shooting him a dirty look, “I’ll talk to him when he comes to the shop to check on the race. Only time I see him these days.”

“Who are you telling?” Stoick demanded as Valka came rushing back into the house smiling. He returned to trying to get Hiccup’s hair right, “I still have to tell him that tomorrow’s the day. I’m announcing that he takes the knee after the final race.”

“We’re going to have more to announce than that,” Valka squealed.

“When did she consent to the wedding?” Gobber demanded, already planning the event in his head.

“Berk’s first snowfall,” Valka admitted, sinking into the chair next to Gobber, across the table from Stoick.

“Timing couldn’t be better,” Stoick admitted, glancing over at his wife for a reference to get the boy’s face right, “I wish Grim would get back here for the announcement tomorrow.”

“I’m sure I could be persuaded to move my return up,” A new voice in the house made them jump, “So I don’t interrupt the start of my son’s reign.”

All three of them shot up from the table, eyes going toward Hiccup’s loft. Stoick automatically went for his axe, while Valka went for her staff, and Gobber, of course, always had his hook. It took them a moment to process the sight their husband made, where Grimmel the Grisly sat at the edge of Hiccup’s floor, long legs extended before him and crossed at the ankles, his back leaning on the house wall, with a Deathgripper dragon’s head sleeping on his lap. 

Valka came back to herself first, staff clattering to the ground as she took in her other husband for the first time in over twenty years, “You’re back! When did you get here?”

The silver haired Viking scratched the dragon under the chin, stirring it just enough that the beast moved off him, “This morning, before Stoick came in to start Hiccup’s likeness. At least… that’s who I assumed it was.”

They all looked down at the little wooden statue that the Chief had been working on since breakfast. It was about complete; looking just like Hiccup had the year before in his Berk armor, when he’d taken Drago’s head. 

Grimmel had been there all day watching.

The Commander flung himself from the loft.

Gobber had known this was coming since Stoick ordered the smaller man back to Berk. The Chief was too much of a hopeless romantic like their son and the blacksmith had refused to take away any of Hiccup’s happiness at his mother’s return. But, as he watched the Night Fury Killer soar to his full height and tower over Valka, he saw that the woman’s best friend was about to address what no one else in the tribe could.

Blue eyes that were hard as dragon scales looked on Valka demanding, “Now, I’ll ask the same of you.”

The brunette Viking had been waiting for this moment since she and Gobber first locked eyes within the Bewilderbeast’s nest. Admittedly, Valka had thought it would be Stoick seeking to throttle her and not the ever logical Grimmel, but it was no less than she deserved. When the Chief started forward to defend her, the woman quickly raised a hand to halt him, “Hiccup found me last year.”

Silver hair leaned just a bit closer as Grimmel growled in her face, not sounding unlike his Deathgripper, “I spent twenty years living amongst our enemies, so that Hiccup could grow into the Chief that the tribe needed. My own son won’t recognize my banner when my fleet sails to Berk! And you deserted him!”

Tears were already streaming down her face as Grimmel turned, pacing to the fireplace and back, “And for what? Because dealing with us Vikings was too hard? Look at what he’s done in spite of your absence! Imagine where we would be if he had his mother!”

“I know,” Valka admitted, “I wondered every day who he would become.”

Stoick and Gobber both stared at her. No one their age had heard Valka mention the two decades that she spent with the Bewiderbeast’s nest. Hiccup asked questions of his mother, but that was it. Even a year later, most were still torn between embarrassment of their past treatment of Stoick’s wife, who tried to speak for the dragons long before Hiccup, and outrage at her actions, after watching Stoick’s heartbreak and Hiccup’s hardships. Both Vikings were curious and dreaded to hear what she would say next.

“I wondered every day if he would be as stubborn as Stoick, or as inventive as Gobber,” Valka sized up the man who had been one of her only two friends during her childhood, “Or if he’d develop a mind like yours.”

“Three for three ain’t bad,” Gobber commented to Stoick, where the two had propped themselves up on the kitchen table to watch the two come to terms. 

The Chief snorted as his only reply.

Grimmel rolled his eyes at the pair. No matter what may have changed around Berk, those two never would. He felt some of his anger dissipate as his gaze trailed over Valka for the first time without attempting to keep his incandescence closer to his chest than armor, though some embers still burned, “And your love of dragons.”

“The one thing I never considered,” She told him honestly, as she allowed her friend to pull her close for an embrace. And it never had. That Hiccup would love dragons like her was absurd whenever she’d thought about his life on Berk.

Once the two separated, Stoick stepped up to pull in his husband, “Where is the fleet?”

“They should cross Bear Island today,” Grimmel disclosed taking Hiccup’s usual seat at the table.

The others quickly rejoined him as the Chief asked, “Is that what you wanted to talk about?”

“No, what I had in mind is far less pleasant,” The Commander told his husband.

Valka studied his venomous blue gaze that had locked onto Stoick. She had only thought that their husband was mad at her, but the rage in his eyes now was a murderous sort of scary and it was all for the redhead. No one had glowing reports to give about the Chief and Hiccup’s relationship prior to Toothless, but Gobber had given her the full story on the two; the good and the bad. Studying the Chief’s two husbands, Valka realized that it had been foolish to assume the smith wasn’t telling Grimmel about every move the two made for the last twenty years, as often as they could at least.

Breaking a fierce glare on Stoick, Grimmel looked to the Ergi that had helped Hiccup through so much when Gobber sighed. His silver brows went up in inquiry for the other man’s thoughts, as the blonde grabbed the Night Fury bust to fiddle with it using his remaining hand. The Pale Poacher had left Berk at a time when Hiccup was the only good thing left in their lives, so Grimmel recognized the melancholy currently surrounding their blacksmith all too easily.

Gobber shrugged, “I have spent the last six years making it my life’s mission to find out what happened in this house that day. I know I’m about to find out… And now, I’m not sure that I want to know.”

“Do you want to go find Hiccup?” Grimmel offered because he saw no shame in that. 

He didn’t even want to know, but was desperate to understand his son. Knowing this meant that he could look into his son’s eyes for the first time in two decades and fully understand the King that Hiccup had become. That didn’t mean he found any joy in the hardships that the baby he’d left behind had been forced to face.

Stoick realized in vivid calamity what this was about. He and Hiccup spoke of what he said before the Battle of the Red Death only once after the boy woke up. Finally ready, the teenager had forced the hard discussion of their family that Stoick had avoided since the worst Viking Berk had ever seen turned ten. Once it was over, Hiccup made him swear that what happened in their house that day before the battle, that their fight’s contents, would never leave its walls.

He watched as Gobber shook his head. The blacksmith had begged to know what happened when Stoick came down to the ships with tears in his eyes, his husband having already spotted the saddle. Gobber had been the one to casually inform him that Hiccup was riding the beast… Toothless. Stoick hadn’t been able to even hear his husband, not really, his last words to his son roaring in his ears too loudly, all the way to the nest. 

There was no one but Gobber now, as Hiccup’s only other parent on Berk that day set the stage for the others, “He’d just been handling a Monstrous Nightmare in the training ring. If this one hadn’t spooked Hookfang by throwing his hammer down, I can only imagine what Hiccup’s dramatic little fifteen year old self had planned…” 

The Chief flinched, no one was ever going to say that he’d been at his best that day.

Gobber never even noticed his reaction, “...but then Toothless came to save him. I spotted the saddle as we were taking Toothless to Stoick’s ship, Astrid was right in my ear screaming that she’d ridden him too and that it wasn’t Hiccup’s fault…”

Stoick hadn’t known that either. He was sure Gobber told him that day, but when he said he hadn’t been able to hear a thing over his own head… There was no doubt that he was already aware of how much he’d erred long before the Red Death emerged.

Yes, as a Chief, but more importantly, as a father.

“Then you came out of this house and you had tears in your eyes. You wouldn’t talk to me. For the first time in fifteen years… All you did was prepare the ships,” Gobber’s stare was steady, even as it judged him, “I rushed up the hill and I found Hiccup just picking himself up off the floor. He… I started trying to check him over, but there was a look in his eyes that stopped me in the doorway; it was just like you. I’ve never known what he was looking for, but I remember that he was refusing to let himself cry, same as you. Then, he turned and walked out that damned back door!”

Both Valka and Grimmel got the sense that Gobber had cursed the house’s secondary entrance point before, “The next time I saw him, he was riding a Deadly Nadder in to save our lives. After, when Gothi and I were treating him from the battle… I never knew if all the injuries were just from the fight or if...”

“Did you strike him?” Valka gasped. She’d thought that Stoick might be angry enough to lash out at her when he first saw her, but even in that moment he’d been gentle. It terrified her that he might have hit Hiccup when he’d only been fifteen.

“No!” Stoick was horrified, he’d never known that Gobber had been worried about that. Though he realized that he wasn’t totally innocent either. Pushing off from the table, he paced over to the fireplace, “I shoved him, I… We fought, or argued rather. He was begging me for Toothless’ life and then he mentioned having been to the nest and I got tunnel vision. He tried to warn me. He begged me to just listen and I… Oh Gods, I shoved him and he hit the ground. I told him that he wasn’t a Viking… Or my son. But I didn’t... I never would have struck him!”

All three of his spouses stared at him, mouths agape. Stoick had been the one to push for Valka and Grimmel to marry him at nineteen, insistent that who fathered any of Valka’s children was irrelevant. Most Chiefs had never taken an Ergi into their household until their wife’s first child was established, if they weren’t already married prior. Grimmel joining them right after their marriage had been a big scandal on Berk, but none of them ever thought Stoick would say something like that to any of their children.

“Do we have to vote on someone to slap him?” Grimmel asked the other two, “Or should we just start a line?”

“You complete and utter bastard!” Gobber yelled standing and charging over to stand an inch away from the Chief. After staring into those green eyes for a moment, his stomach rolled and the blacksmith had to escape back to the table, unable to look at him anymore.

Stoick wasn’t surprised when his other husband’s dragon woke up and joined them downstairs. As a general rule, Toothless didn’t like any other dragons in the house, besides Hiccup’s team, whose dragons were like the Dragon King’s family. And babies, of course, they always came and went as pleased them. But, the poor Deathgripper and Grimmel didn’t know that, and the creature could clearly tell that the silver Viking was upset. 

As Grimmel took Gobber’s place before him, the dragon took its place beside the Commander, growling at the larger Viking. No one would ever be more ashamed of what he said that day then Stoick was himself; he’d regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. The only thing he regretted more was being too stubborn to go back into the house and apologize like he should have.

Grim studied him, “And yet he still rode a dragon into a battle he couldn’t hope to win to defend Berk; to defend you. You must not have been completely useless the first fourteen years.”

Gobber snorted at the table, head held in his good hand, “He had his moments.”

“Did you make it right?” Valka asked where she’d bent to pick up her staff, fiddling with the small noise makers on the end.

“The second I got to him,” Stoick assured her. “Toothless was still trapped on the ships when the Red Death set them ablaze. I saw Astrid drop him onto mine and I just remember running. When the ship went down I dived after him and Toothless, pulled him up first and, once I saw he was breathing, went back for the Night Fury.”

Grimmel stepped away from him, content that the Chief knew how badly he’d erred that day. He wandered over to investigate a large chest that was tied shut; the Commander had been wondering what was in it since he got back to the house. Gesturing to the cabinet, he was disappointed when Stoick just shrugged.

“I know it’s something to do with Hiccup’s gifts for the Dragon Riders for the start of the Racing Season, but that’s all.”

“Why did you go back down for Toothless?” Gobber asked, as he’d always been curious. But, if he hadn’t been able to convince Stoick to tell him what happened after the fight in the arena, there was no way he thought his husband would share what the Chief had been thinking once the Red Death appeared.

“What in Hel’s name was I going to contribute to the fight?” Stoick demanded, “I mean, I was the one who’d gotten us into the mess. And the only one who knew what was happening, besides my boy, seemed to be the dragon. And, now that I think about it, Astrid, but she was a new addition back then.”

That made Gobber chuckle. Their son’s betrothed seemed to figure out just a bit before the rest of them just the sort of Viking their Hiccup would grow into. Astrid was a good one and he couldn’t wait for Grimmel to meet her.

“Did he even know who I was?” Grimmel asked once they’d all taken a collective breath. Did he like what Stoick said and did that day, no. But, there was a reality that he and Gobber had feared far worse for six years. He clarified his question, “Was he even aware that you could have not been his father?”

“He… Yes and no,” Stoick admitted, “I never would talk to him about it. Not until after the Red Death, when he made me. I think, by then, he was scared that… Anyway, he heard rumors, but all I ever told him was that he was my son and heir, and not to mind the gossips.”

“What was he afraid of?” Grimmel demanded, “Oh the irony of our lives.”

Stoick shared a look with Gobber. They were used to this now with Hiccup, once the soon to be Chief got a thought. Since they’d first seen him come into the loop about Johann’s treachery and leadership of the Dragon Hunters in the archipelago, Hiccup proved more and more how much he took after a man he’d only met once as a toddler. 

Grimmel the Grizzly had been the legend of Berk, going off to battle the Night Fury species after Valka was taken, and he’d been all but successful to anyone’s recollection. Hiccup constantly held himself in reverence of, and then in opposition to, the man before them with distinction; distinctly before and distinctly after one Toothless of House Haddock. 

Valka had to agree that the greatest joy and irony of their distinctly separate lives was Hiccup. He did it with dragons and Vikings in equal measure; their worlds coming back together showed it. She figured out, right before Stoick said it, what he and Gobber had seen coming from thousands of miles away.

“He’s so afraid of you,” Stoick quickly moved to elaborate at Grimmel’s startled look, “I mean… The first time the rumors got him to ask questions, he was ten and he already had me questioning my sanity with the way his mind worked. Sometimes… you weren’t just a legend, you were Berk’s only legend in those days. All the other kids thought you were Loki, himself, come to trickster Thor out of a hairy situation when the Hammer was stolen… Ragnarok itself beating at the door was held at bay by the ‘previous hiccup’ of Berk. 

“A turn of phrase which, when paired with Valka’s ironic naming choices… Is responsible for you both owing us an apology for the fourteen years before Toothless, come to think of it!” Stoick glared at his wife and first husband, “Odin is truly the darker form of love. He didn’t have room for any idol of gods or men when compared to his worship of one god and one goddess; the Night Fury Killer and the Fallen Valkyrie. Neither of you were here and there was no room in his mind or heart for anyone else, not for years.”

“Not until Toothless,” Gobber agreed.

“You were jealous of us?” That surprised Valka.

It wasn’t logical, Stoick was well aware of that, “I wanted to connect with my son so much and always felt like I came up short. He didn’t have that Viking bravado, not until after Toothless, and I only ever tried to bring it out in all the wrong ways. Gobber was good at it… Hell, Spitelout was better at it than me some days.”

Grimmel might have been gone from Berk for two decades, but he still knew better than to point out such a thing would make sense. Given Spitelout, whose brawn always fell short compared to Stoick the Vast in the Berk of their teenage years, had been Valka and Grimmel’s third head on a Rageblast dragon, it was a very bad idea to point out that their best friend would be used to pulling out Hiccup’s more reserved sarcasm. Especially if the boy took after his mother and Grimmel’s style, as the Chief was implying. Saying that about Stoick’s old rival would only lead to pain for the whole family, as no one would ever hear the end of it.

“That’s because you were always afraid to push him too hard,” Gobber reminded, “You didn’t expect him to take after you and treat life like it had no limitations.”

“I know you’re right. I should have known the boy would come out big, at fifteen, with a Monstrous Nightmare underhand,” Stoick muttered, “Gets his dramatic flare from these two.”

They all knew that Hiccup was Stoick’s, of course. Green eyes didn’t run in either Gobber or Grimmel’s families, and they certainly hadn’t come from his mother. The fact was, though, that it never should have mattered, especially when the silver haired Berkian knew exactly why Stoick had gone blank at his son’s friendship with Toothless. 

He’d laid waste to an entire species of dragons because he and Stoick blamed the Furies’ presence for Valka being taken that night. Hiccup making friends with any dragon was terrifying after what they’d lost, but Grimmel could imagine what his husband, his Chief, faced when a Night Fury came barrelling to Hiccup’s defense. 

“So, after he battled and killed a Red Death on the back of a Night Fury,” Grimmel summarized, “Did you let him think I would turn my back on him?”

“I… He’d just lost part of his leg and there was a Night Fury sleeping in my house! I didn’t know how you were going to react; even Spitelout was nervous about what you’d do. And before he woke up, we were afraid to even…” Stoick trailed off and they could all see how horrified the Chief had been. There had been good reason as well. Losing a limb was dangerous and easily led to Valhalla if not properly cared for.

Gobber shuddered at the memory.

The Chief scoffed after a moment to collect himself, “The fact that you took it so well was a miracle, I mean… You were the Night Fury Killer. I… It was part of your identity by the time you came back when Hiccup was a tot. That’s how he knew you, how he idolized you, before Toothless. I couldn’t have stopped it from happening, even if I thought there was something to stop.”

“You came back?” Valka asked. She remembered that the fleets had been leaving one week from the night she was taken. It had been a hope of hers that her dragon knapping would be enough to keep Grimmel in the North, but even then, she had known that wasn’t possible. 

“Twice,” The Commander admitted and Valka immediately noted that the Chief and blacksmith were surprised by that information, “I came back once, three years after the initial departure, to assure Berk that the alliance would be held, as long as dragons were purged, starting with the South.”

“So, Hiccup would have been three?”

Grimmel grinned at the memory, “He was precious. Thor Almighty, he was the cutest little… He looked up at me and called me ‘The Night Fury Killer’ when Stoick went to introduce us.”

Three seemed a little young to recognize Grimmel from name and by the title, Valka thought.

The silver maned Viking saw her question, “I asked. He said his dad always told the story of how the mighty Night Fury Killer went forth to avenge the Fallen Valkyrie… It was the first time I ever took genuine pleasure from the title.”

Stoick originally grew a beard to hide when he blushed, because his spouses were relentless in their attempts to embarrass him. It served its purpose well at that moment. But his stories had been the only way he had to connect Hiccup to his fallen mother and Ergi away at war.

“He was calling me Ergi pretty consistently by the time I left two days later, but I doubt he even really remembers it...” They could all see that the fact hurt him, “Regardless, he was my reason for existing all these years,” Grimmel reminded them, “And there is nothing that I would not do for my son.”

He wandered over to Hiccup’s desk, looking at the tail piece covered in dragon scales there,”So, when I got a letter saying that you’d managed to capture an adolescent Night Fury, and that you two had some sort of fight, but Hiccup ran out on Gobber, I invited myself back. Of course, by the time I got here, even with my Deathgrippers and airship, I was watching my son walk from this house, down a leg, and take off on the back of the dragon species I’d hunted to near extinction. Its tail was a sigil all Hiccup’s own and I had to learn about the Battle of the Red Death.”

Both Chief and smith went wide eyed at the revelation that Grimmel had been back on Berk the day Hiccup woke up. He’d seen them. Stoick had been so relieved to see his son alive that he’d let Hiccup do his thing, showing everyone on the island how he could ride Toothless when not in battle. It had been the boy’s start as the Pride of Berk.

“I think it was easier some days, for him to think that maybe he was your son,” Stoick admitted, although the words tasted like yaknog, “There was a gap that I let develop. I was gone on the ships looking for the nest so often, once he turned ten, and when I refused to talk about the rumors when I was here… They were his greatest terror and hope in those days, all because I let him think I was disappointed in who he was. Because if he wasn’t my son and he didn’t know his mother, who was he possibly in the tribe?”

Stoick and Grimmel stared at one another for several stark minutes, “If he gave up his identity as the Night Fury Killer’s son, then how could he possibly be enough? He’d idolized you for so long...” The Chief snorted, “He did it anyway though. For his friend, his brother. And six years later, here we are.”

They all sat on that for a little bit and Stoick went back to finishing Hiccup’s figurine. It wasn’t quite a modern rendition, as the ginger informed his husband when Grimmel asked. Hiccup had changed in the last year, since he’d been running the village. 

The four were still huddled at the table when they heard their son, and his Dragon Riders, coming up the path to the house. The sounds were dampened through the walls, but the trio of Berkians instantly recognized Hiccup’s voice, and with a nod Stoick let Grimmel know it was him, as the small army discussed marriages, since racing and wedding season always ran alongside one another.

“Come on, Hiccup, no one got married all winter,” Grimmel didn’t recognize the voices, but he saw that his spouses did, as their eyes rolled simultaneously, “Heather and I have been putting this off for a year. I don’t want to drag Dagur into this…”

“No need to threaten me with my brother’s unique brand of temper tantrums,” Hiccup dismissed, “It’s on the docket to discuss with Dad before the feast tonight. I’ll have slots for each of you before the Berserkers arrive.”

“Thank you!” The boy admonished; he sounded antsy. And from what Grimmel heard on the way to their house that morning, everyone knew the Chief of Berk had been in a rut since Drago’s attack the previous season. The Hooligan Tribe, at large, was ready to force Hiccup’s fur down his throat, if the Sergeant didn’t get a move on to his status as Chief, “The old man’s head is about to blow off Drago style from listening to my mother.”

“Try if from my perspective,” A girl all but hissed, “If one more person comments on Hiccup being unmarried by twenty-one…”

“Have you met my mother, Astrid?!” The loudest of the boys demanded again, “If I don’t get her moved down to the bottom of the hill…”

“Don’t start with me, Jorgenson!”

“As the Ergi that’s followed  _ him  _ around since we were five years old,” Another boy commented, earning a snort from Gobber. The Commander grinned, as he knew the blonde had followed a similar path with Stoick. He couldn't wait to sit back and hear about the last twenty year from the Ingerman's perspective; it was bound to be hilarious, “Shut your mouth. You know nothing of our parents’ nagging! The village had to wait for you two to flower.”

“It’s no picnic for the foreigner trying to get Ergi status either,” Now that was a voice that Grimmel was equally surprised and pleased to recognize. 

He’d been terrified when his best friend’s boy, Little Eret, was moved under Bludvist’s command when the Southerners were trying to infiltrate the North. There was immense relief at knowing that when the man led his fleet into Berk, he could produce the boy safe and, apparently, discussing marriage to a Berkian. He wondered who caught the previous dragon trapper’s attention finally.

“We wanted to get married at Snoggletog! Repairs were done,” Another boy commented, “There was no reason to put it off!”

“You’ve gotta get your Dad over this hump,” A deeper voiced woman agreed, “You took your first head; it’s not the end of the world! Forget the honey, just go for the hatchet!”

Stoick rolled his eyes, but he knew Ruffnut was right. He’d been pushing off marriages since repairs finished, angry about his son not having been announced to take the knee, because Gobber was dragging his feet. It wasn’t fair to keep punishing the rest of the young Vikings because everything got put off.

The door started to push open and a loud whistle echoed through the house, “I am handling it! Give me a few hours, everyone will have their answ…”

“Serge!” 

The younger Viking didn’t get to make his excuses and escape into the house, as the established Berkians recognized Gustav’s voice sounding from the air above them. Gobber heard the sarcasm in their son’s voice as he addressed the younger Viking.

“Gustav… Miss home already?”

“There’s a foreign fleet!” It sounded like Gustav had dropped to the ground outside, his voice ragged, “They have a leading party of a hundred and four hundred ships coming behind them just off Bear Island!”

Even from inside, unable to see Hiccup or any of his friends, Grimmel felt the energy outside change dramatically. He could hear the difference in his son’s voice as he became a Viking leader, a military commander, “Pull your team back to Nadder Isle, then no one moves until my team gets there. We send a message with the leading party!”

“Yes, Sergeant!” Gustav cried. 

Stoick could hear him running back for his Monstrous Nightmare, Fanghook, and the beast taking off.

Hiccup came tearing into the house then, his team right behind him.

Stoick got ready to stand, to draw the team's attention to the fact that Grimmel’s fleet was friendly and originally from Berk, but the Commander’s hand raised to halt him. 

Grimmel couldn’t help it, he needed to see Hiccup like this. He wanted to watch his son as a leader, before everything the young Viking did was colored by his presence. Once the Chief settled back into his seat, none of the Dragon Riders noticing them, Grimmel took them in fully.

Hiccup was bigger than he was expecting. After so long having to put up with slights against the young boy’s size, even abroad as word travelled, Grimmel wasn’t expecting him to be at least as tall, if not a little taller, than his mother now, and almost as built as little Eret. It shouldn’t have been surprising; blacksmiths and trappers tended to bulk up quickly once they hit puberty. That’s what had happened to Eret’s son; hiccups were just notorious late bloomers.

The one member of the group that he was familiar with had his back directly to the table. He looked well in a shirt of bright gold, its design like dragon scales. Big Eret would be relieved when he arrived with the fleet.

There was a beautiful blonde girl standing next to little Eret with her arms crossed. After a moment she moved to lean against him, using the larger Viking’s hip like a perch. An axe of a metal that was foreign to him was strapped to her back, its color bright silver with an orange tinge. 

It didn’t escape the Commander that each of the younger Vikings had a different weapon of the same material. The strange metal was used on what looked like a small metal scrap that was laying before Hiccup’s seat at the table Grimmel had claimed. He wondered once again what it was and barely resisted the urge to pick it up.

From the smile that Valka gave the girl, Grimmel assumed that this was Astrid. He wondered if everyone had gone easy on her as Hiccup’s betrothed because she was beautiful? He would not be so easy to impress. 

Next to them were two larger boys with their backs to the door of the house. One was a blonde boy, who reminded him of Gobber. Based on the other kids he recognized from Gobber’s descriptions over the years, sparse though their communications had been, Grimmel assumed that this was Hiccup’s best friend, Fishlegs Ingerman.

The other boy was the living impression of Grimmel’s best friend growing up, Spitelout Jorgenson, so he easily assumed him to be little Snotlout. He hoped that his son and the Jorgenson were as close as he and Spitelout had been, despite Stoick and the older Jorgenson’s rivalry. Hopefully the fact that Snotlout was part of Hiccup’s original team of Dragon Riders was a sign of that.

The other two, looking so much like his little brother and each other, made Grimmel smile. The twins were grown now and, from the conversation that he’d heard outside, planning their marriages. He hoped both had chosen well.

There were a lot fewer dragons with them then he was expecting. As a matter of fact, the only dragon that entered following the small band of Vikings was a baby Gronckle that crawled in after the team, and it was barely out of its egg.

Their son was giving orders the entire time Grimmel took him in, “Astrid, move to close down Berk, no one’s in the air that isn’t on patrol. Make sure the outer banks are secure, make patrols as often as you need; I’m sending the auxiliary riders back here as soon as I get out to Nadder Isle.”

“I thought you said Gustav could handle himself,” She demanded, voice as hard as his son’s.

It startled Grimmel to realize that Hiccup was talking to her like he would have Eret, his General. That certainly subverted his expectations, but he was nothing if not adaptable.

“He can, which is why he stays here with you to defend Berk,” Hiccup didn’t hesitate, pulling a hilt the length of his forearm from his belt. Grimmel felt dumb when it ignited, having not realized it was the famed Dragonblade that he’d heard tales of. He gave a second glance to the now recognizable hilt on the table. It was a new, incomplete, Dragonblade with other pieces scattered around it. His son continued unaware, “I won’t make the same mistake I did with Drago.”

The Commander picked up the hilt then, even as Tuffnut slotted himself against the Sergeant of Arms, gasping, “Does this attack mean we get our super secret Dragon Racing gifts early?”

That answered his inquiry about if Tuffnut had chosen a husband well; Grimmnut must have been ecstatic. Grimmel spotted Astrid and Eret roll their eyes in unison, giving one another a look at the two men’s dramatics. For all Little Eret was flashy in presentation, he was practical in behavior. It seemed Hiccup’s betrothed was somewhat similar. 

Good for them, but the Pale Poacher still thought it was a boring existence.

“Never let it be said you aren’t the brains of this outfit,” Hiccup grinned at the Thorston, slicing through the ropes holding the cabinet together like warm yak butter.

The doors fell apart and all the room’s eyes feasted on the armor that was revealed inside. It was black as night and looked to be covered in dragon scales, from what Grimmel could see. He recognized them and knew they had to be from Toothless, the famed Night Fury that his son had claimed.

“Is that…”

“Fireproof armor,” Hiccup told his soon to be wife, “I was able to take a full powered plasma blast from Toothless at point blank range wearing this; only knocked me back with no internal damage. It will also make us blend in with our dragons.”

“Oh, it’s just what I always wanted!” Tuffnut exclaimed.

Hiccup grinned as he reached for the gloves first, then the arm guards, “Good, because you each have one in the Great Hall’s armory.”

“That place was destroyed by dragon fire years ago,” Snotlout snorted, “Why there?”

“Because I rebuilt it for Eret as a forge,” Hiccup admitted.

Oh, even better news for his best friend’s arrival to Berk, then.

The previous dragon trapper froze where he’d moved to fasten the Sergeant’s armor into place, his eyes going wide, “You what?”

“That’s what you’ve been doing out there every night?” Astrid demanded.

Ruffnut gave her best friend a look, “You didn’t recognize an entire forge going up around you?”

“When he’s moving lots of heavy things, shirtless, in front of you,” Astrid told her, “Then you can comment.”

Ruff looked Hiccup up and down like she was imagining the scene, “Point made, Hofferson.”

Stoick looked smug in the corner of Grimmel’s gaze, but Hiccup blushed like he wanted Thor to strike him dead right there. Still the Viking moved to answer Eret’s question, “Gobber isn’t speaking to me,” Grimmel saw the blacksmith flinch, but Hiccup still didn’t realize they were there so he just continued, “And once we’re married, you’ll need your own space. He isn’t retiring anytime soon anyway…”

“But I’m not a Berkian,” Eret interrupted, sounding more exasperated then confused, as if he’d said it a hundred times.

It was obvious why when Hiccup shrugged, dismissing it, “You will be. Astrid will take all of you, she knows where the armors are. Suit up!”

“Are we allowing negotiations, Serge?” Snotlout demanded.

“A hundred ships was a slow weekend back in mine and Viggo’s day,” Hiccup hissed, his hand that Eret wasn’t putting armor on going out for emphasis, just like Stoick.

He was unaware of his Ergi affrontedly mouthing ‘A slow weekend?!’ to his father in outrage. 

Stoick had to turn away so that he didn’t laugh and give them away. 

Hiccup continued boldly, “They can raise the white or negotiate with me when Mjolnir cracks!”

“To Ragnarok!” All the other Dragon Riders hollered in response.

As soon as they started turning to leave, Stoick had enough and soared to his full height, “Not that I wouldn’t love to see you negotiating in Valhalla, son, but its friendly approach!”

“That is not the banner of anyone we…” Hiccup spun on his father, ready to argue the point, but froze when he saw who was sitting at the table with his parents, “...know.”

Grimmel spotted Valka flinch out of the corner of his eye. 

All the other Vikings turned swiftly to see their Chief, and the other adults at the table with him. They could see that Hiccup knew who the stranger among them was, but none of the others recognized the silver haired man. 

Except for Eret, who misinterpreted Hiccup’s shock, getting nervous about what was about to happen, “Hiccup, this is…”

That seemed to shake his son from where he was mesmerized by Grimmel’s presence. He raised a hand to halt his betrothed, “No, I know! It’s alright, I know who he is.”

Grimmel gave the hilt he was still holding one more glance, before putting it down and standing to face his son, “I’ll admit you not knowing my banner hurts, though it’s expected after so long… And I’m not a man that hurts easily.”

Hiccup was breathless, his own ears only processing what he said next after the word had already left his mouth, “Ergi…”

“When I hear ‘To Ragnarok’ coming from this house, I just invite myself over!” A new voice approached the front door, “What in Helheim is going on around here?”

Grimmel broke eye contact with his son to take in Spitelout’s approach. It took the man a moment to follow Hiccup’s shocked gaze, along with his team’s, where their eyes were locked on the Berkian Commander. When his best friend spotted him, Grimmel chuckled, “What can I say? The means for dealing with unrecognized visitors may have changed, but the method, not so much.”

“Grim!” Spitelout shouted, rushing over to pick the other man up with his embrace.

“Spitelout!” He smiled warmly in his friend’s hold, returning it. When Jorgenson’s hand lingered on his waist as they parted, the silver Viking spotted Stoick giving the irritation of his life a dirty look, and Grimmel’s eyes rolled. Those two would never change, anymore than Stoick and Gobber would.

There was more yelling from outside. They all turned to look when an angry ginger came tearing into the space; he looked to be about Hiccup’s age if Grimmel was judging right. He had a clearly pregnant blonde woman dressed in all black and gold and another woman with black hair and lots of metal on her outfit trailing behind him.

“What is this I hear about an attack? At the start of our season? We will send a message with the first hundred for the rest, Brother!” The man shouted as he marched in going straight for Hiccup.

“Sweetie, if you had your way,” The blond woman said, warmly letting Astrid and Ruffnut join her by each arm and touch her belly in the doorway, “The next four hundred would find nothing but ash on the water when they get there.”

“That’s the message!” Both the foreigner and the dark girl chorused.

To be fair, Hiccup only laughed, “You know, Brother, that was my first reaction,” Then he seized hold of the other man’s chin and turned him to face the returning Berkian.

“Oh Odin’s great, full, majestic beard,” The fiery maned Viking muttered, “Uncle Grimmel!”

It struck him exactly who the other boy must be and Grimmel was embarrassed not to have recognized his nephew; Dagur had been a couple years older than Hiccup when he last docked in Berk. The surprise didn’t show on his face only because he’d spent twenty years among enemies of the North. His eyebrows went up at the pair of them. 

After all, he’d heard the most interesting stories of their joint adventures.

“I just felt my arse getting tanned,” Dagur pulled his face away from Hiccup’s hand on his chin, but it wasn’t quite a jerk. Especially given that he moved to sit down propped up on the Viking Sergeant’s still open cabinet.

With an eye roll, Hiccup joined him, arms crossing over his chest, “Try it from my perspective. I took on you and Uncle Alvin.”

“I’m sorry, did you just say uncle?” The dark girl demanded. When she looked over at him, Grimmel recognized Oswald’s green eyes, just like his nephew’s. People always said that Oswald and Stoick should have been brothers; there had even been that possibility.

“Yes, of course, sorry. Sister Heather, meet Uncle Grimmel. He’s our mother’s younger brother; Uncle Grimmnut’s twin brother. The last time he docked on Berk, I was five, you were still leeching in Mom, and so, Hiccup was…?”

“Three,” The Sergeant supplied, his eyes wandering back to Grimmel.

“And Mom was Uncle Alvin’s twin sister?”

“Yes,” Dagur clarified, “That puts the last few years in context, really.”

“Woah,” The twins chorused, staring at him.

“Touch him!” Tuffnut demanded.

“No you!” Ruffnut shoved him closer, only for her twin to hit the floor.

“I’ve never prayed so hard for Ragnarok in my life,” Hiccup admitted to the ginger next to him, “Just unbridled rage, Hel on Midgard, reign down upon me; it would be easier than this.”

Both young Chiefs, one official and one not, looked around for a moment, like they were hoping the ground would crack open and Hel, herself, would appear before them.

Gobber had told him about the deaths of both Alvrid and Oswald, although he’d never heard how his sister met her fate confirmed. Grimmel could guess and would rather cut out his own tongue then ask for clarification in front of his niece, who actually looked so like his sister at that age. That was a terrifying realization. He’d take the tongue of anyone who mentioned the famed Thorston fertility in front of her as well.

“Hello, Heather.”

“Hello,” She waved but didn’t seem to know what to do with the information now that she had it.

“Speaking of family relations though…” Dagur trailed off.

“I just said I was handling it not ten minutes ago coming up the… Oh Odin help me, you were all in here for that,” Hiccup groaned at the realization that it hadn’t just been Stoick, or even Gobber and Valka, inside the house as he approached. Sighing, he continued, “Anyway, Dad, tell them we’re handling it.”

“He’s right,” Stoick agreed readily enough, taking control of the situation, feeling alive for the first time as Chief since the previous year, “Everyone will have a slot for their family’s marriages this season by dinner tonight.”

“And I’m beginning to realize how this reunion might have gotten out of hand,” Spitelout put the room together with an eye roll toward his best friend. When their gazes locked at the gesture Grimmel felt at home with the naturalness of it. The Jorgenson patriarch just grinned at him, “Allow me. Alright! If you are not currently able to claim the last name Haddock, you leave with me.”

“Can we make a case for really very much about to be?” Tuffnut demanded.

“The use of the word currently was very specific, Boynut,” Spitelout called back to him.

Spitelout was relieved for the Chief, honestly. Every man approached elder status differently and Stoick wanted his reverently. It was what had always motivated the mountain of a man and putting it off for a year hadn’t been good for him, but he was stubborn about the timing being perfect. 

The only reason Hiccup hadn’t taken the knee in the dirt of Drago’s attempted siege on Berk was because he wanted to make his father happy. He delayed taking his place in the tribe just to let the man have his perfection. It was something they were all ready to embrace with reverence by this point. The life that its coming approach breathed into Stoick was welcomed back.

Dagur locked hands with his brother, ‘It was nice knowing you, Serge.”

“Bold of you to assume I wouldn’t take you with me,” Hiccup informed him, “Astrid, make sure the Berserker Chief doesn’t leave Berk.”

“On it,” The pretty blonde’s voice threw back, already out the door and Grimmel heard a Deadly Nadder chatter, then, “Stormfly! Who wants their Uncle Dagur?!”

“Oh Hel is Great,” The redhead muttered, unsheathing his axe before running out the back door, and Grimmel heard a Triple Stryke sound off. He couldn’t help but wonder at such a creature’s loyalty; they tended to need warmer climates and Berk, even in the summer, was not.

“Who wants their Uncle Dagur? You do, yes you do!,” Astrid demanded again, “Alright, fetch!”

Grimmel felt the stubborn burn of appreciation spark against his earlier skepticism. Hiccup was far too experienced to call on his betrothed for aid if she could not follow through. That she was ready to act in his stead with both powerful dragons and Viking Chiefs was telling. He wondered if she knew how to use the axe she carried, but if Dagur’s reaction suggested anything, the answer was yes.

Hiccup looked at the large blonde Viking who was heading out behind Snotlout. Fishlegs, as long as Grimmel wasn’t guessing wrong, “Go out to Nadder Isle and warn your mother. You might want to check in on Gustav and make sure he’s not…”

“Having a panic attack? Got it!” The other boy chuckled, “Don’t think this is what he was expecting on his first week of patrol… Meatlug!”

The baby Gronckle followed him out as well, Grimmel noted.

Tuffnut was the last out the door behind his sister and Eret. Grimmel spotted Ruffnut giving him a curious glance as she left behind Fishlegs. His niece and little Eret both stopped in the doorway to hear his nephew’s parting words for Hiccup, “Remember details, there will be an interrogation later. Torture may be invovled.”

“That part I believe,” Hiccup told him with a grin and wink.

Stoick snorted, “Eret!”

The previous dragon trapper looked at the Chief, not sure what to expect after what he realized the man must have heard. 

“It didn’t sound like Hiccup told you yet so…” Stoick gestured for Hiccup to take over.

That brought a genuine grin to the Sergeant’s face, now that battle wasn’t impending. Hiccup told his lover, “I talked to Dad. You’re being welcomed into the Hooligan Tribe tonight with the other trappers from your ship. And he’s even presenting you with your own dragon.”

“Really, who?”

“Skullcrusher,” Stoick told him. At the flabbergasted look he received the mighty Viking chuckled, “With Thornado back from parent duty, they’re about to fight. And he’s a younger dragon; he needs someone who can keep up with him and Toothless. Welcome to the family!”

That caused a blinding grin to sprout on the young man’s face and Grimmel couldn’t fight a smile for the boy. He was glad Stoick had taken a liking to the previous dragon trapper and now blacksmith, even before he revealed that he’d made friends with the boy’s father abroad. Whatever the younger Eret was getting ready to say was cut off by the Night Fury Killer’s best friend.

“Let’s go you three,” Spitelout’s voice called back from further down the hill.

“Thank you, Chief!” Eret offered as the door closed. 

“We will talk later,” Tuffnut reminded his fiance in the last second before the family was alone.

Hiccup took a deep breath, then just turned to stare at all four of them.

Stoick gave him a moment, but didn’t let it linger too long, “I thought Gustav was being deployed next week?”

“I thought if a fleet I wouldn’t recognize was coming to Berk, I’d be the first to know.”

“Boys,” Valka corrected them quickly. She had felt awkward doing it since she came back, usually wanting to defer to Gobber, but, as more time passed and the smith stubbornly refused to give his blessing to Hiccup, or confide in anyone about why he refused, the result had been silence between the man and his previous apprentice. So, step up she had; no one would survive Stoick and Hiccup if they were left unmanaged.

Hiccup sighed, “Sorry, that wasn’t fair. You know how Gustav is. He completed all his training a week early and was drilling his team harder here then if I just let him go. So…”

Stoick nodded, knowing that it was well within Hiccup’s power to ship the teenager off, as well as how enthusiastic Gustav could be, “Your Ergi wanted his arrival to be a surprise. I didn’t count on…” He made an emphatic gesture toward the door.

Hiccup snorted, his eyes sliding toward the silver Viking, “Welcome back to Berk. Still not for the faint of heart…”

Grimmel hummed at the greeting, “Not for the faint of heart indeed, especially when wars seem to start at the drop of a helmet this close to freezing to death.”

Hiccup blushed, knowing that Gobber must have told his other Ergi about his vivid descriptions of Berk in his youth. Grimmel watched him get nervous and start looking for something to fidget with. Just like setting a trap, he backed away from Hiccup’s seat by half a step, more of a weight repositioning really, drawing his son’s attention to the abandoned hilt. 

Like a dragon to dragon nip, Hiccup was less than a foot away from him in a moment, picking up the device as he muttered, “Where did Dagur go again? I swear he should be here for this thrashing.”

“I believe he’s on the run from your future bride,” Grimmel reminded him. The truth was that he had very little interest in his son and nephew’s squabble and told the boy as much, unable to look away from Hiccup now that he was in arms reach, “You and Dagur were teenagers. Even that skirmish with your Uncle Alvin was really just he and your father still having their temper tantrums.”

That earned a deep laugh from Gobber, while Stoick crossed his arms and dropped back into his chair. The other Ergi told his smaller counterpart, “Thor Almighty, I missed you.”

“I’m more interested in how you managed to turn Viggo Grimborne against his only boss in the entirety of the North.”

Hiccup started, looking up at his Ergi for the first time since he’d wandered over, “You knew Viggo?”

“Hmm, he answered to me before he was dispatched here. Krogan answered to Drago Bludvist. The South wanted their dragon hunters to establish a foothold in the North,” Grimmel chuckled, though it was dark, “Viggo had no problems, until he did. I wish he’d said who his rival was before, I would have… What happened?”

“He changed his mind,” Hiccup admitted, “I… We, the Dragon Riders, established our own island…”

“Yes, the Dragon’s Edge,” Grimmel acknowledged, “Your father said you’d be back in six months, bored like all restless teenage Vikings, with no problems. Gobber and I both thought he underestimated you.”

“I don't have to put up with this,” Stoick reminded them, but didn’t move from his seat.

Hiccup rolled his eyes, “Tuffnut and I never liked Johann. By the time we were taking on the Dragon Hunters… Dagur, his wife Mala, our allies to the West, and the Dragon Riders, we came together to dismantle them in the North. When Krogan gained Johann’s favor after Viggo lost sight in one eye, he turned for us… He sacrificed himself to get me away from Johann. Then the traitor… Well, the traitor always dies.”

“That’s the shortest summation of those years I’ve ever heard,” Gobber muttered.

Grimmel smiled down at his son, though not by much, “My sister’s husband, Oswald, used to say that a lot.”

Hiccup grinned at him, “Dagur says it too… Well, hello there.”

The Deathgripper had gotten antsy when so many new people came flooding into the house and made a break for under the table, behind Grimmel. Now that Hiccup was the only new person, like most dragons, the creature couldn't resist investigating him. The long time dragon poacher watched how easily Hiccup reached for a creature, one of four, who barely tolerated any other human long enough to get through meetings with other Vikings, or War Lords. The female was almost hatchling-ish as Hiccup backed her into the room, hand hovering over her snout, seeming to play with her.

“That’s Sifang,” Grimmel introduced them, “You know, I was expecting to see a lot more dragons, maybe even a Night Fury, around these parts.”

“Oh Hel, Toothless!” Hiccup’s attention broke away, leaving a surprised Sifang in his wake, and made for the door. 

All his parents laughed at the fact that he’d forgotten his friend was still outside, probably having been waiting for battle at Gustav’s alert. Although the three who had met the Night Fury were well aware that it wouldn’t have been more than a few minutes before Toothless invited himself into the house, once the other dragons took off.

Grimmel watched closely as his son opened the door. He couldn’t fight the instinct to protect him from a threat, no matter how many letters he’d gotten from Stoick and Gobber in the last six years. As soon as the door opened, Hiccup was talking, “Didn’t you hear Spitelout? All Haddocks are in the house!”

There was barely even a flash of black before Hiccup was raised off his feet, lifted into the air as a larger form charged into the house. Grimmel tensed, he couldn’t help it, and was relieved when Valka grabbed his hand to steady him. Despite how angry he was at her, because she’d given up a chance with the boy before him that Grimmel had been denied, the Commander acknowledged that she was much more familiar with dragon civility then he was.

The Night Fury didn’t seem to hesitate as he and Hiccup rough housed in the middle of the floor. The only hiccup, besides his son, was when the creature noticed Sifang. There was a little bit of growling, but quickly Grimmel noticed that his docile girl lowered her head, and then his son’s dragon was fine again. The offspring of lightning and death itself jumped up on the beam of the doorway, hanging there like a bat, and pawing at Hiccup, who jabbed back at him, as if they were really fighting.

After a moment, Hiccup turned to face him once more, and Grimmel could feel his trepidation across the room. Probably used to all sorts of Vikings seeking out the Chief, the Pale Poacher hadn’t warranted much attention from the Night Fury, but once Hiccup’s attention came back to him, that changed. In a blink, the dragon was backing him up against the table, sniffing at his hand.

“Easy, Toothless,” Hiccup called but the creature was already backing off at sensing Grimmel’s… He was going to allow the feeling in his stomach to be called nerves.

He had ruthlessly hunted the entire Fury species to near extinction, he wasn’t afraid to face down a Night Fury. But, even though Toothless had no idea who he was or what he had done, it was quite different to have such a beast underhand with no intention of doing anything except meeting his son’s best friend. When the dragon backed up to sit next to Hiccup, looking to the Viking to explain the new human’s fear, the Sergeant moved to introduce them.

“Ergi, this is Toothless,” That his son started with the title, especially seeing that the boy did it because he was nervous and falling back on how he thought of Grimmel, was endearing, “Toothless, this is my Ergi Grimmel.”

When the dragon took a step closer, clearly wanting to investigate once more, Grimmel stuck out his hand. He glanced toward Hiccup, as he’d just seen the younger man doing it with Sifang minutes ago, to make sure that was right. 

Hiccup nodded and Toothless came closer. 

After sniffing his hand for a few moments, Grimmel felt the beast place his snouth against his hand and couldn’t stop a slight jump.

“Well, that was different,” He admitted and instantly saw Hiccup’s relief that he wasn’t going on the warpath. If only he didn’t want to ruin the surprise for his son, but instead he said, “Would you take a walk with me? Just you and Toothless? I just have a gift fo…”

“Of course we will,” Hiccup was already agreeing, “Let’s go out the back. Maybe half the tribe won’t find us.”

“I want you two to have all the time together you need,” Stoick cut him off, “But we have to get these marriages sorted out. Do you have a plan?”

Hiccup deflated but seemed to reorganize himself quickly, “Yeah, I do.”

“It won’t take long,” Stoick tried to encourage him.

“It’s fine,” Grimmel agreed with his husband, “Get it done.”

“Does that mean you’re going to be cooperative for once?” Hiccup asked his father, taking his seat at the table and picking his new sword back up.

“Only if you are not trying to change the whole social structure of the tribe,” His father replied, taking his seat at the opposite end of the table.

Valka snorted and moved off into the living area to sit with Grimmel by the fireplace. Gobber stayed at the table between the father and son, but his old friend thought that had more to do with being back against the wall with no way to escape. 

Luckily, Stoick smelled the blood in the water.

“First things first, Gobber,” The Chief named the problem, “Speak to him or so help me, Thor, I will get my axe.”

Hiccup waited in silence for a long minute, but, when Gobber only tried to start and struggled, he took over because he just wanted this fixed, “Can you at least tell me what I did?”

The blacksmith was startled by that, “What?”

His previous apprentice shrugged, “Well, you were fine when Toothless and I led the babies and team back to Berk. Then after the Battle for Berk you started avoiding me. What did I do? Was it Drago?”

“No!” Gobber insisted, “You didn’t do anything wrong, Hiccup! I… It wasn’t after the battle, it was after the last race. When Dagur delivered the offer of the crown, all I could think was…”

“I’ll turn it down if you don’t think it’s the right choice for Berk,” Hiccup was steady as he said it. He meant it too. Gobber raised him and if the blacksmith thought it was a bad course, he wanted no part of it. 

Grimmel wanted so badly to tell him that he would do no such thing. The North’s greatest, and only chance, was for the Vikings to unite. The only person every Viking would give a crown was Hiccup, and he did not spend decades in the South, enacting his and Stoick’s plot, to have their son lose hope because Gobber got cold feet.

“That’s not it. No one else could unite Vikings the way you have,” Gobber admitted, “My problem hasn’t been political. It’s personal, because I don’t know what I would do if anything happened to you.”

Hiccup smiled at him, “We’re vikings; it’s an occupational hazard.”

Gobber rolled his eyes, both he and his son looking over to see that Stoick was absolutely beaming, “There will be no living with him after today.”

“Speak for yourself, I’m going to stay with Eret,” Hiccup informed his blonde Ergi, “Only person on this island I can trust to hide my arse out.”

“I could sleep in the forge,” Gobber thought, then second guessed his son’s comment about hiding out with Eret only, “What about Astrid?”

“Astrid gives definition to face your problems head on,” The Dragon Rider shrugged.

“That’s true.” Valka contributed, “I suppose I could go back to living with the dragons.”

“So what, I get home and he’s my problem?”

“Until this fur comes off, I can and will banish every one of you,” Stoick reminded them, but he was smiling at his reunited family.

Just before it happened, Grimmel spotted Hiccup’s face transform into sheer deviousness, and then the Sergeant suggested, “I’m sure Spitelout would take you in, Ergi.”

Stoick’s glare was hot like dragon fire, “Is that really how you want to start off these negotiations?”

Putting the last piece into place, Hiccup ignited his new sword, that was forged from dragon metal; a unique mix of Deathsong Amber and Gronckle Iron. He was naming it Peacekeeper. Toothless and Sifang were instantly mesmerized by the fire and he played with the two while continuing their conversation, “I don’t think you’ve got as much wiggle room as you think you do, Dad.”

The Chief had to own that part, “I know everyone is antsy.”

“Dad, if Ergi hadn’t been here, Spitelout might have actually taken your head off,” Hiccup told him, gesturing with the ignited blade. He moved so naturally with it, Grimmel noted, that Stoick didn’t even seem to register that Hiccup had a deadly weapon in his hand; no one did besides him, “And Gods, Uncle Grimmnut… I thought he was going to kill me in the Great Hall earlier.”

“What exactly happened?” Grimmel demanded, “I mean, Odin, there was a huge battle. With a Bewilderbeast from what I was told. How mad can my brother be?”

“It’s not about things getting delayed because of Drago,” Hiccup sighed, turning to his Ergi to explain, “Last year, the day racing started… No, let me back up. When Dragon Racing started five years ago, some events were considered honors in the tribe because it coincides with the summer weddings.”

That made sense to Grimmel. There were certain events that were huge traditions during his day too. The two months during the summer where one couple could marry a day, as well as the first snow and Snoggletog during winter, the two times during the rest of the year that weddings were allowed to take place, were huge events. Particularly in houses where prominent families had people between sixteen and their early twenties; competitions were fierce. Indeed, Hiccup’s team were probably getting talks of public executions from their families, if everything didn’t go off perfectly this season; especially if his husband hadn’t approved any weddings during the last winter either.

He was grateful that they would have at least a year before the South could even think of massing against them. He wondered if he could convince Hiccup to take his crown at Snoggletog? For his son’s sake, as he’d then be a married man and Chief, the timing would be spectacular, “I’m beginning to see where things might be a little hairy for you. Really, Stoick, you’ve left him bare for the vultures while you’re sitting here whittling? You’re not an elder yet, Chief.”

The relief that came over Hiccup’s face was immeasurable as Grimmel reclaimed a seat at the table, this time stealing Valka’s, “Oh Gods, I’ve missed you so much! Please don’t ever leave Berk again!”

“Alright, you cannot let him turn this into anarchy just because you’ve been gone,” Stoick told his husband, “Let’s hear this plan of yours, so I know how much the Council is going to hate me as I retire.”

“I’m really not going as rogue as you might think, Dad. I have one risque choice, but my reasoning is sound.”

“Explain the Big Four to your Ergi.”

“Okay, at the Opening Night feast tonight the first marriage occurs. That’s considered the highest honor and the first of the season’s Big Four weddings. Then tomorrow is the second big night, since the marriage occurs after the first Dragon Race of the season. Third is the Middle Marriage, because it takes place in between the first and second month of the season. Then, the final marriage that takes place after the final race at the Grand Feast; that’s the other big one, besides opening.”

“So naturally you’ll take the first and the last,” Stoick told him, “Marry Tuffnut tonight; it is the highest honor and keeps your uncle securely off our backs. There might be some resistance to you taking a foreign Ergi at the Grand Feast, but we did far more risque in our day.”

“Not even as risque as you might think,” Grimmel offered, “Eret’s father, Eret the Elder, is my General. He’s the one bringing in the fleet for me.”

Stoick and Hiccup both bore matching looks of shock, but his husband recovered first, “Oh Odin be praised! That makes this rather simple…”

“Woah, woah!” Hiccup called the meddling parents back, “We’ve come right up against that unorthodox choice I mentioned earlier.”

The Chief sighed, “Well, let’s hear it.”

“Alright, background,” Hiccup started, “As Dad will recall, last year Dagur married Mala in the Hooligan tradition at the Opening Feast. I was supposed to marry Tuffnut in the evening after the first race and Dad was supposed to announce that I would be taking the knee at the end of the season at the wedding feast.”

“Instead…” Gobber muttered, trailing off with an eye roll.

“Instead?” Grimmel prompted when their son only glared at his father and Gobber. Both men crossed their arms at him, waiting.

“Dad went to inform me that morning, mind you, and I took off. There had always been a plan for me to set a date to marry Astrid when I was announced and I knew if I threw the first race, which I’d never lost, that she’d find me. Which she did… But, before I could ask her, we found Eret and his trappers blown to icy bits by Mom’s Bewilderbeast, while we were riding a Night Fury and Deadly Nadder, and I got my first introduction to the name Drago Bludvist.”

Grimmel let that information sink in, humming, “Now, there was maybe a day between the Battle of the Bewilderbeasts and the Battle for Berk, correct?”

“Not even,” Gobber grouched.

“How long was there between that First Race and the Battle for Berk?”

“Maybe a day,” Hiccup blushed.

That made the returning Berk hero laugh, “Life’s never boring with you around, is it, son?”

Hiccup waved him off with a shrug, “So, with us doing repairs, no one got married last season after that. And Dad refused to let any of the Dragon Riders marry during the winter celebrations, nor did he announce me to take the knee at either event, and now the Jorgensons and Thorstons want their pound of Haddock flesh.”

“Alright, what’s this idea of yours?” Stoick demanded again.

“What if we let Snotlout and Heather marry tonight? Hear me out!” Hiccup demanded, hand with the sword going toward the older Viking, although Grimmel could see it was emphasis, not a threat. 

Stoick still didn’t even seem to notice what Hiccup had, just that he’d been told off for interrupting, as he rolled his eyes and recrossed his arms. 

But he was listening, Grimmel noted.

“Thank you,” Hiccup noted his effort verbally, “They were supposed to get married at the Grand Feast last year, after Tuffnut and I took the night of the First Race, and Fishlegs and Ruff took the Middle Marriage. Giving them the Opening Feast is an apology that no one can deny. Fishlegs still wants the Middle Marriage; he and Ruff agree that it’s lucky. If you let Tuff and I take the First Race again, I’ll make sure he wins and, between the wedding and victory for his son, that should buy me out of the stable with Uncle Grimmnut!”

“I find out that you have two Ergis and Astrid wanting to marry you, and you give up the biggest honor,” Stoick murmured, “Is this my punishment for being in a rut?”

“You know this will work!” Hiccup insisted.

“You do not have to take a lesser event to appease my nephew,” Grimmel said tersely when he saw that Stoick wasn’t going to. It seemed to him like a political decision on Hiccup’s part because of Dagur’s status as Chief. He was upset that his husband seemed to be considering the plan, “Or throw your record to appease my brother! I’m back now! I can easily walk down the hill and yank the knot in his chain free.”

Hiccup grinned at him but still waved off his Ergi, “It’s really not like that. Tuffnut has always wanted to win, ever since we started Dragon Racing. He wants the victory more than he wants to be the best and I’d rather be the champion than the victorious. It’s why we work. Doing it this way just makes my wedding present really convenient.”

“You won’t feel guilty for not maintaining your record?” Grimmel demanded, “I doubt anyone counted that botched forfeit before the Drago fiasco.”

That pulled a full belly laugh from the younger Viking, “They tried that. So, when we were all determined to have the final race of the season despite repairs, I threw the winning sheep into Astrid’s basket.”

“Oh… If it’s so easy for you to win, I’m surprised others still compete.”

“We’re Vikings, we’ve got stubbornness issues,” Hiccup shrugged, as the Night Fury came to swat at his prosthetic leg. Grimmel was surprised when he took it off and threw the leg into the house, so Toothless could give chase, without so much as pausing their conversation, “Everyone wants to be the one to defeat Toothless. But, no luck yet.”

“I don’t think it’s just Toothless,” His Ergi assured him.

“That’s the truth,” Gobber said, watching as Sifang also took off after the leg, once she watched Toothless for a few passes of fetch. 

“That’s also why he only competes in the first and last race of the season these days,” Stoick chuckled.

Hiccup sized his father up, putting Peacekeeper on his belt, discarding Dragonblade to the table, “Dad, I know things with the Jorgensons have always been… complicated, but I was raised with Snotlout, for good or for ill. I want this for him. I’m asking you to let him have tonight.”

Stoick sighed, “And what about marriage requests for the non-formative days?”

While they were working things out, knowing that was Stoick’s concession, the Chieftess of Berk decided to check on those who had left. Valka walked out of the house to find Spitelout sitting on the group of large rocks in the middle of the twenty yards between the Chief’s house and the Jorgensons’. She walked down and perched beside him, “So, what’s happening?”

“Well, I told the kids to make themselves scarce once they got their armor and not to appear until the feast tonight,” Snotlout said, “Chances are one of them is getting slotted to marry. I figured Hiccup can meet up with them whenever Grimmel finishes with him.”

“How did you know he wanted to talk to Hiccup alone?” She asked, always surprised how Spitelout predicted Grimmel with ease, especially after how long they’d been apart.

“Everyone always thought he was such a smarty pants,” Snpitelout muttered, “Manipulative, strategic, all of that yak dung. But he’s still just a man. He’s been away from Berk for twenty years! He wants his spouses and his kid; anything he has to put up with to make those goals are just the necessary obstacles.”

“Alright, so the children, who are about to start running an entire region, mind you, not to mention them taking over the tribe and marrying, are out of the way for a few hours,” Valka agreed.

“So, then I told the Council that Hiccup and Stoick were discussing the marriage schedule,” He shrugged.

“That’s all?”

“Is anything else, anyone else’s business at the moment?” She hummed in response, “I didn’t think so either.”

Valka had long envied Stoick and Hiccup’s easy conversation with everyone. Still, in this moment, if everyone was like her best friend, then she could imagine it being easy, dealing with people. As easy as dealing with dragons, even.

“Then I told the council that if anyone needed anything I’d be sitting here, so that they are not disturbed. Funny how no one ever needs anything when I do this.”

“It’s like they think they’re Odin and Thor almighty sitting up there,” Valka admitted. She’d never done well with the attention that being a Chieftess afforded her. If she’d come back... The Viking liked to think that she would have learned to deal with it, but she had her doubts. She barely got by with Hiccup, Stoick and Gobber bearing the brunt every day during the last year.

“And Loki himself, though they don’t know it.”

“How often have you done this in the last twenty years?”

Spitelout’s head tilted for a moment, “I used to do it whenever he came back from the ships. He lived on those dragon scourging ships after you were taken. At first determined that he could find you, because you always insisted the dragons wouldn’t hurt you. Then, after… Nevermind. It doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter,” Valka insisted, “I never stayed away because I didn’t care. I cared so much. Your lives mattered to me everyday and I need to know, as much as Grimmel does.”

He huffed, “Grim probably doesn’t know this, I never told him, but Stoick and I had it out right before he came back a little over fifteen years ago. When you were taken… Stoick was in a bad way, Val. He stayed away, he wasn’t acting as Chief.”

The Chieftess knew exactly how her husband and his tunnel vision could be.

“Hiccup had been nursing off my wife, living in my house like Snotlout’s twin, but when he started calling me ‘Dad’ like my own son, I’d had enough…” Spitelout trailed off for a moment, then, “I told Stoick if he wasn’t going to raise Hiccup or run the village, I would, but he had better not expect everyone to halt their lives waiting on him to come back to us, especially not his son.”

Valka flinched at her husband’s pain, as well as the mess that she’d left good people like Gobber and Spitelout to deal with in her absence. 

“We didn’t speak again until Grimmel docked in the harbor and he called us on it,” Spitelout admitted with a shrug, “And, Stoick never left the village during the winter months again. But, he packed up and lived to find the nest during the Summer months. He’d come in though, for a night here or there to restock during the warm months, and I’d end up right here.”

“I know it got bad,” Valka had heard the stories of Hiccup and the Chief before Toothless, “But were they close when he was little?”

He shrugged, “After I threatened to take Hiccup, Stoick always made sure to be with him whenever he was on Berk, even when they couldn’t hold a conversation between them during those rough years. And it’s the only time Stoick ever wanted for just his family. So, I made sure no one bothered them.”

“Despite your irritating methods, Spitelout Jorgenson,” Valka told him, arm wrapped around his shoulders and kissing his cheek, “You really are a softie.”

The dark and silver haired Viking grimaced, “I know, much to our parents’ disappointment, we never had a romantic spark between us, but I never would have let anything happen to your son, Val.”

She swallowed back tears at that, fiddling with her staff, “Is that why you sent the letter to Grimmel after the Battle of the Red Death?”

At the Jorgenson patriarch’s startled look, Valka shrugged, “Grimmel admitted to coming back to Berk one time, other than fifteen or more years ago. He said he got a letter; I’m sure Stoick just assumed it was Gobber, but I saw that he was surprised too. Who else would have sounded such an alarm?”

Spitelout sighed and confessed, “He’d just defeated a dragon as large as Berk on the back of a Night Fury and come out alive when Grim got here. But, I’d known that we lost control of the situation when Stoick pounded that hammer and startled Hookfang.”

He smiled at the memory of the arena, “Until then, I’d finally seen Hiccup find his Viking bravado and he looked good with a dragon underhand… It was the perfect blend of you and Stoick. I got excited and didn't know see him losing it until after the damage was done. I'm sorry for that."

"What would Stoick have even let you do?" She acknowledged.

He seemed to side against saying anything further in that vein to the dragonlady, after a moment of appraising her, "And, when Gobber told me on Stoick’s ship, that the man refused to say what went on in the house… I knew we were out of our depth in reaching the Chief; turned out Hiccup still wasn’t, but I thought Grim was our only option.”

“Thank you for being there, for both of them.”

Before he could respond, they both heard the door to the Chief’s house open. The pair of Vikings turned to take in Stoick and Gobber’s emergence, but Valka quickly felt her exasperation blossom when the ginger glared daggers through their proximity to one another… The absolutely lecherous smile that Spitelout shot her husband did not help matters.


	2. Chapter 2

Hiccup took off out the backdoor with his Ergi and two dragons. Toothless was reluctant to give up his leg, but relented after they proved to be going outside for an adventure. He was thrilled that his father allowed his plan to stand and he couldn’t wait to tell Snotlout and Heather that they were getting married that night. Both had assumed he’d take the first and last marriages, like his father; only Tuffnut was aware of the Sergeant’s super secret plan.

“So, Tuffnut wants to get married tomorrow,” Grimmel allowed as they moved through the woods, “Why hasn’t he told my idiot brother off?”

“Everyone has been trying to hold their parents off,” Hiccup admitted, “But at this point things are about to boil over. I mean, apparently Gertrude Jorgenson…”

“Yes, I heard Snotlout’s commentary outside. I told Spitelout he’d regret marrying a Berserker.”

Hiccup laughed, “And then Uncle Grimmnut… To be fair, Tuffnut and I did disappear the last time we were supposed to get married and came back with two more battles under our belts. I think he just wants the reassurance that we are still planning to marry. Tuff’s always danced to the beat of his own drum and it doesn’t inspire confidence in everyone.”

“But it does you.” 

“Of course!” Hiccup told him, “The twins were the ones who helped me escape Johann after he captured me and Viggo.”

Grimmel hummed, “And your Astrid?”

The Sergeant’s face lit up like a child’s on Snoggletog, “She’s incredible. She was the first to ride Toothless with me, to believe that I could end our war with the dragons another way. Even when things went wrong in the arena, she didn’t give up on me. It was Astrid who told me to keep fighting, for Toothless, and rallied the rest of the Riders… Although Snotlout was the first to connect with Hookfang when they found me.”

“I remember that you’d just stopped nursing from Gertrude and moved back with Stoick when I came home before,” Grimmel admitted, “I know Spitelout and Stoick weren’t speaking.”

“Those two are never speaking,” Hiccup muttered, “Not civilly anyway.”

“Fair, they’ve always been far too competitive.”

“I don’t remember much of that visit, but I do remember you. I remember Dad introducing you as my Ergi, Grimmel the Grisly. I knew the name, but that wasn’t what I’d heard you called every night since Dad came back from searching for Mom.”

“The Night Fury Killer,” It caused a sense of relief to say it, to put its existence in the open between them, “That’s what you knew me as. For at least fifteen years.”

“I wanted to be you so much,” The younger Viking admitted, looking over at his Ergi, “I mean… No one on Berk had ever downed a Night Fury and I thought, if I could just do it… My life would have gotten infinitely better. I’d have been a Viking, Dad and I would have had something he was willing to talk about, and I thought I’d even get a date with Astrid.”

That made the taller man laugh, “Oh to be fifteen again. So, what happened?”

“I created my first war machine and shot down Toothless. Dad didn’t believe me and, after I was chased through the village by Hookfang and he had to save me, the Chief gave me a dressing down in front of the whole tribe,” Hiccup groaned, rubbing the dragon who came back from playing with Sifang at the sound of his name, “I told Gobber that I’d hit him, but he didn’t believe me either. He told me to quit trying so hard to be something I wasn’t.”

“Very good advice,” Grimmel told him, “You’ve been all the Viking that Berk can handle from the reports I’ve gotten.”

Hiccup snorted, “Maybe since Toothless, but before that… Anyway, the back door and I were intimate friends in those days. In fact, it was my only friend, except for Gobber. And I cut through the woods to get to the Undockable Shore.”

The Commander remembered that place. The rocky coast was a great place for fishing and he used to go there with Spitelout often, when they wanted to avoid Stoick, who loved his ships almost as much as he loved his spouses in their youth. It was impenetrable by any boat.

“After whatever meeting was held in the Great Hall, that’s where Spitelout found me,” Grimmel huffed at his best friend, directing his grin to the ground as his son continued without notice, “He let me vent about Dad and Gobber, he always did. Then he was the one who told me to go find the beast if I hit it. He was right, I knew how to track, so I thanked him and… did.”

“I searched everywhere but I wasn’t ready for what I saw when I found Toothless,” No one had ever asked him too much about that day. The Sergeant sighed, “He was as frightened as I was. And suddenly, all I could hear was Gobber, and what he’d told me every day in the forge my entire life.”

“The way of the hammer is mightier than the way of the sword,” Grimmel supplied, “That is the belief the Viking way of life is founded on.”

“If you have to make the choice between a sword and a shield, choose the shield,” Their son mocked, pretty accurately. Hiccup beamed at him for knowing what Gobber had been arguing alongside Valka since they were children. 

Grimmel returned the look, tapping his son under the chin quickly, as they pushed on toward their destination which only the older Berkian knew.

“So, I cut him free and, after roaring in my face, he took off,” Hiccup continued, “He got trapped in an alcove up here off of The Ridges. We forged a bond that summer, after Dad took off on the ships, all while I was in Dragon Training with Gobber.”

“And then the arena fight happened?” Grimmel clarified.

“I’ve never been sure how Toothless got out when Hookfang got spooked,” Hiccup admitted, hand running through his hair, “He tried before but nothing was ever enough.”

“You were.”

The statement seemed to stump his son. That was interesting, but unsurprising, the more he learned about Stoick and Hiccup’s relationship at that point. He loved his husband, but the man’s stubbornness required management. And, given that their son had the same problem, Grimmel could see how Gobber struggled to manage them alone. Spitelout had obviously tried to help, but his poor best friend had the status of neither a spouse or parent, to Stoick or Hiccup.

“You were in danger and he found the motivation to get out,” Grimmel explained, “You were motivation enough, when his own existence wasn’t.”

Hiccup blushed with no idea what to say to that.

“So, Astrid rallied your Dragon Riders?” The Pale Poacher changed the subject.

“I know they had to think I was crazy,” Hiccup thought back, “Everyone had seen me lose control of Hookfang in the arena.”

“But they rode with you anyway.”

“When I was bringing Hookfang back out, Snotlout reached down for a spear head, but Astrid stopped him,” The Viking snickered, “Then he still let me put his hand on Hookfang, even having to be thinking that I’d gone mad.”

His Ergi hummed, “Is that why you want to give him the Opening Feast wedding?”

The Dragon Rider shrugged, “We’ve always been complicated. He questioned my leadership the most, and I struggled to let control loose so others could grow, but we were really close when we were younger.”

“You grew up together.”

“I didn’t know I wasn’t a Jorgenson until Dad came back from looking for Mom,” Hiccup seemed to shake off the sentimentality; Grimmel could almost see him do so, “And anyway, Heather is the Berserker Chief’s sister. They need a good start after last year was ruined.”

The Sergeant was distracted from their conversation when Toothless took off ahead of them. Seeing that the Night Fury was equal parts curious and cautious, Hiccup took out his sword, orienting himself with where they were, “Toothless?”

They were a good ways up The Ridges, he realized. As a matter of fact, about fifty yards ahead, Hiccup could see the start of the alcove where he first flew his friend. The dragon was low to the ground as they approached the trees’ ending, both ready for anything. 

“It’s alright,” Grimmel assured him, gesturing toward the opening, “It’s no threat.”

Hiccup didn’t know how his Ergi had found out about where he’d first kept Toothless. They hadn’t even been back here since the Battle of the Red Death, not after he had to tell his father and the council everything, including where he’d had the Night Fury. There would never have been a moment’s peace if they returned, everyone and their brother would have wanted to join them. 

Realizing the man had been leading them here for whatever gift the Commander wanted to give him, Hiccup grinned. He took off for the opening. 

Toothless, bolstered by his confidence, took off after his human. 

Grimmel followed them, watching how easily Hiccup moved now, even with his prosthetic leg. That hadn’t been the case the day he saw his son take off on Toothless, but he was glad the Viking adjusted. Even when the Dragon Rider jumped from the rock ledges and into the small grassy valley, his movements were confident.

Hiccup spotted the covered dragon cage the second he got to the opening. Three dragons ran from their guard of the cage, Deathgrippers, to play with Sifang. There was also a large contraption, shaped like a dragon that Hiccup didn’t recognize. When he stared for a moment he thought maybe it would fly, if Sifang and the others were attached. Already he was fighting the urge to show off his new armor and flight suit. 

When wimpers sounded off from inside the cage his fantasy was not the priority. He looked back at the Pale Poacher for any safe conduct he might need to know. His Ergi had taken a seat on one of the large rocks, Sifang and the others moving to sit around him.

With a broad wave, Grimmel motioned him to go look, explaining, “I figured that there would be little use for my dragon tracking skills once I got back to Berk, so I decided to take advantage of the trip here, just one more time.”

Hiccup moved to the cage quickly, Peacekeeper still ignited and Toothless ready to defend him if the captured dragons were defensive. Pulling the tarp off the cage, the sight that greeted him wasn’t anything the Sergeant could have been prepared for, “Oh my Gods…”

In the cage were four Furies, three were white as snow and one was black, just like Toothless. 

The Alpha and his rider locked eyes in shock, but seeing the hope in his dragon’s eyes was all the gift Hiccup would ever need, as he killed the spark to his weapon, “I think we better rethink that solo tail, huh bud?”

Turning back to his Ergi, running over to embrace the taller Berkian, Hiccup’s couldn’t stop talking, “Oh my Thor, this is amazing! This is so great! I mean, there’s another Night Fury! There are more Light Furies!”

Grimmel received him without hesitation, never wanting to let go, enjoying the babbling Dragon Rider’s enthusiasm. When Hiccup finally released him, he followed the boy to over to the cage, although voting himself to stay several yards back, “These are the last two breeding age Light Furies that I can find. The adolescent female is their daughter, although she’ll be breeding age within the next few years.”

Toothless and the other Night Fury were sniffing one another at the cage. When they started knocking heads, Hiccup could see that they recognized one another. He beamed.

Grimmel continued, “I believe that they are siblings. But I could be wrong. She was just beyond the North’s boundaries and I captured her on the way home. The species are going to have to interbreed to have a chance for survival. But, the Fury species might be able to be saved.”

Toothless whined at the cage doors and Hiccup moved quickly to comply, “I’m coming, bud. I’m here. Alright, let’s get everybody out of there, huh?”

The cage door fell open and Toothless was instantly playing with the other Night Fury. 

Hiccup watched them for as long as he could, enjoying the jovial way they recognized one another, and was confident that they were siblings. He was interrupted from his gazing by the male Light Fury appearing, literally coming into view from nothingness, like a Changewing, right by his hand that wasn’t holding the hilt of Peacekeeper.

He turned his attention to the other three Furies then. They were more standoffish, particularly the females, but Hiccup thought that was no different than Toothless had been. They had survived his Ergi because they were smart and didn’t trust humans easily. He’d have to be grateful for the trait, even if it dampened his enthusiasm. 

Putting his hand out for the male Light Fury, Hiccup steadily let a few minutes of sniffing pass, before the dragon felt confident enough to touch him. The male had blue eyes, matching the adolescent female. The mother Light Fury had purple eyes. 

He needed to think of names, but that would wait. 

He’d have to get Toothless his dragon controlled prosthetic tail from the house; surely his best friend would want it now that he had a reason to need alone time with his own kind. 

Once the male came near him, the females tried it as well. The younger dragon was more receptive to him, not having as long a lifetime of justified fear to overcome. It wasn’t until all three moved off to take in Toothless and the other Night Fury that Hiccup did the same yet again.

Upon realizing that Hiccup’s attention had returned to him, Toothless sat up on his haunches, pawing at the other dragon by his side as if he were pointing. 

Grimmel couldn’t help but chuckle from his rock, where he’d returned to sit with Sifang and her siblings, letting his son have this moment. The young Light Fury wandered over to check out the Deathgrippers, while the parents moved to inspect Toothless. His Four Fang siblings didn’t seem to know what to do with the young dragon’s curiosity.

There was a little bit of posturing between the males, although Hiccup quickly noted that his King of Dragons didn’t seem to warrant dispute when the Light Fury backed off. He stayed where he was, not wanting to get in the way, and wanting Toothless to have what he had back in the village. When the older Light Furies seemed to accept Toothless, they moved over to check on their daughter and her fascination with Sifang. 

Toothless didn’t seem to appreciate Grimmel’s son keeping his distance, the Berkian Commander noted, as the Night Fury marched over behind Hiccup and blatantly started pushing him toward his sister by the pond. He hadn’t been sure about the Night Fury and Toothless being related, but as they had gotten closer and closer to Berk, the black female had seemed to grow more comfortable, unlike the Light Furies.

Light Furies were more common in the South, while Night Furies had been the plague of the North when Grimmel was a boy. He knew the Light Furies didn’t have any need for the warm weather, it was just a matter of chance, so he hoped that all of them would stay on Berk with Toothless. After all, both breeds of Fury were pack creatures and mated for life. Other than color, body rigidity, and quantitative locations, the two should be perfectly interbreedable from what the previous, he supposed now, Pale Poacher had observed in the last couple of decades.

Hiccup was mighty as Thor himself where he stood before his best friend’s sister, “Hello there, I’m Hiccup. I guess you could say we’re kind of siblings too. Does this make me the adopted one, now?”

Hiccup’s Ergi watched as Toothless purred loudly at the human and he went back on his haunches again, to push the human closer to the other Night Fury. It took his seaworn mind a moment to process the inside joke. But, if Hiccup and Toothless thought the dragon was the last of his kind, his son’s comment made sense. Stoick must have really enjoyed when Hiccup took after Grimmel’s morbid sense of humor after he shipped out. Gobber probably encouraged the boy’s sarcasm relentlessly, that was just the smith’s style.

Grimmel had to look away for a moment when the other Night Fury went back on her haunches, back straight, like Toothless, obviously thinking that was how she was supposed to sit around Hiccup. His son’s laughter was better than the sound of all of Grimmel’s spouses safe and chatting in their house, although not by much. 

The Dragon Rider still just held his hand up to the dragon, despite the added height, “I suppose it works with you up there too, doesn’t it?”

Hiccup thought that Toothless’ sister was beautiful. Unlike the Light Furies, who had less dorsel nubs and fins, and tails curved like butterflies, the female Night Fury was sharper, like her brother. Hiccup moved to rub under her chin like his mother taught him and counted; it looked like Toothless was a big brother, at least by a couple mating seasons. Her eyes were golden yellow and she looked to be about the size that Toothless was when Hiccup first met him. 

“Hey there, Golden eyes,” Hiccup thought about that, “You know that’s how your brother got his name.”

Toothless gave a growl but Grimmel thought it was decidedly playful.

“Yes, I do think we can do a bit better by your sister,” Hiccup admitted, “Freyja is the golden goddess and I’ve always been told my Aunt Alvrid was a dark beauty too…”

“That she was,” Grimmel wandered over to them. He pet Toothless when the Night Fury bounded over to him, surprised by the loud purr he received, realizing that the show of something that felt like gratitude made his stomach roll. He could now see what he’d almost managed to do, what Hiccup stopped him from, knowingly or not.

“That was the first thing I ever found beautiful about Astrid.”

His Ergi’s eyebrows slid up, his face becoming marred with confusion.

“Her name sounded like Aunt Alvrid’s, and she was the woman everyone always said was the most beautiful from Dad’s generation. I just remember thinking that there was something to the naming,” Hiccup blushed, running his hand over the female’s head when she moved in to inspect him closer, “How about Freyjid?” 

The female, Freyjid, purred and took off for the young Light Fury. 

“What about the Light Furies?”

“I haven’t gotten that far yet,” The Sergeant told him, hand going through his hair, “I cannot believe this. No wonder Dad never stood a chance against the greatest gift giver that Berk ever knew!”

Grimmel couldn’t help it, he busted out laughing, “Is that why your friends get lavish gifts at Racing Season and Snoggletog?”

“I had a lot to live up to,” Hiccup gesturing from Grimmel’s person to the group of Furies socializing with both hands, “Oh my Gods, I can’t even… I mean look at them! I’ve got to get Toothless’ tail. Have fun, Toothless; I’ll be right back!”

They heard a slight growl and, when Hiccup looked back, Toothless was following them, with the other Furies trailing him.

“It’s alright, Toothless. Stay here and socialize, I’ll get your tail!” Hiccup called back before turning to exit.

Grimmel went to leave the clearing with his son, neither of them thinking twice about running down to the village. So, it scared the life from the Commander’s body when Toothless charged in front of them, blocking the exit, and growled from deep in his chest. Everything in the older human’s body was screaming to shove Hiccup behind him, but the younger man stood his ground.

“Woah, bud,” Hiccup said, his hands going up, “Clearly I did something to offend. What’s going on?”

Toothless stared up at his son from the dragon’s crouched position on all fours. 

When Hiccup stuck his hand out as calmly as he had all day, without so much as a thought that the dragon was angry and could bite it off, Grimmel was even more surprised when the Night Fury came to him just as calmly as before. Hiccup seemed a little confused by the gesture as well, as his brows came together, especially when all Toothless did was circle behind him and nudge the human toward the opening with his large head.

“Okay, weirdo,” Hiccup commented, “We’ll be right back.”

They tried again, but once more all five Furies moved to follow them. 

Hiccup looked puzzled, but Grimmel could spot what his son couldn’t. He chuckled, “He’s going with us.”

“Shouldn’t he want, like, private time with them?” Hiccup asked, before correcting himself, “Well, it’s been six years and I still haven’t found the dragon with a real sense of privacy.”

“It’s definitely a Viking characteristic,” Grimmel agreed, “Besides, Furies are pack animals.”

“They are?” Hiccup asked, moving out with Toothless at his side when his Ergi waved him forward.

“Indeed. Most of the time, Furies spend around ten to fifteen years with their parents' pack. Then five to ten years searching for a mate. Then they would start their own pack. At least, that used to be the pattern,” Grimmel admitted, “That five to ten years is small, when Furies live to be as old as Vikings.”

“Wow,” Hiccup commented, hand going over Toothless’ head, where he stayed by the Sergeant’s leg. Freyjid came to Hiccup’s other side wanting attention, forcing the two humans further apart. The adolescent Light Fury also wanted to be part of the younger group and tried to fly, despite the trees, over Hiccup’s head, showing that she was the youngest. Hiccup reached up when she came down in front of him, impeded by branches, to feel under her chin; she was definitely a few seasons younger than Toothless’ sister.

“They also mate for life,” Grimmel disclosed, “And Toothless is an established alpha. They are all joining his pack, not the other way around. So, if he goes with you, they’ll follow him, at least until they meet the rest of the… Very extended nest pack, from what I saw on the way in this morning.”

Hiccup chuckled, “Yeah, everybody loves their dragons on Berk these days.”

There was a sound of screaming not far from them. Both met eyes, expecting a threat, as one pulled a crossbow from seemingly nowhere, while the other pulled his new sword. Even the dragons tensed, until words followed the yelling.

“I’m not trying to leave!” Dagur hollered, “I swear I won’t! Astrid! Stop her! I’m a Chief, this is undignified! Astrid!”

“What do you swear on Dagur?” Astrid asked smoothly, Hiccup could almost picture her cleaning her axe, although they couldn’t see the two through the trees, “Semantics matter, Chief.”

“I swear to Thor, when I get out of this Blondie...”

“Now, now Dagur,” Hiccup distinctly heard an axe handle meet someone’s cranium, “That’s blasphemous!”

The father and son pair shared another look, then promptly kept walking.

Both Vikings chatted about Hiccup’s Dragon Riders and Grimmel’s stories of twenty years in the South, the Sergeant leading them easily through the woods back toward the village. Seeing his Ergi’s preferred weapon made the younger Viking nostalgic for an old creation of his own. He decided to update it and show the man, some time in the next couple of days. 

When they got back to the tree edge behind Stoick’s house, Grimmel spotted his spouses chatting with Spitelout in the space between their homes, waiting on him, “Alright, I’ll go tell your Dad that he can make the announcements. Why don’t you take Toothless and the others to find your Riders? I’m sure they’ll appreciate a couple of people more than the whole village.”

“You are not wrong!” Hiccup admitted, hugging him once more, “Thank you, Ergi.”

Grimmel hugged him back, “Don’t thank me, I caused the problem. But I’m glad you’re both happy.” He let the young Sergeant go, “Now, enjoy your last day off until you reach Elder status.”

Hiccup took off for his loft of the house, Toothless right behind him. The other four Furies followed them and, by the time that Grimmel was walking around the house in sight to Stoick and the others, unholy racket was sounding off from inside. He snickered, waving the four concerned glances off, “Don’t ask. You’ll see later.”

“That does not inspire confidence, Grim,” Spitelout muttered.

“I know,” The Commander smirked, “Now, Spitelout, come with me. I have a twin brother to threaten within an inch of his life and don’t want anyone spotting me to warn him. Stoick, Hiccup is telling the Riders, you can head for the Council.”

“I’m on the Council though,” Spitelout pointed out, even as he followed Grimmel with not another sign of protest.

Gobber rolled his eyes at the pair, they’d never change.

“We’re meeting him after the thrashing,” Grimmel assured, knowing the Council would want to talk to the man about to dock five hundred ships around Berk, effectively ensuring that they had the largest fleet in the North.

Getting Toothless’ new tail on, in a small house with four other Furies nosing around into everything, was no easy feat. Especially when the King of Dragons thought Hiccup was still trying to put distance between them. In the end, Hiccup had to get the saddle he’d designed to go with the tail out first, so Toothless knew that his human planned to fly with him too, before the Night Fury would let him put the prosthetic on.

Once it was safely fastened, Toothless and Hiccup herded the pack of Furies back into the woods, toward the nearest clearing for taking off. Right before they got too far, Hiccup ran back to the house for his helmet that he’d left behind earlier, attaching it to his belt. He had no doubt that there was no way to hide five Furies taking off from behind his father’s house. 

Hiccup laughed when he found that the clearing was where Astrid was holding Dagur. The Berserker Chief was still trapped underneath Stormfly. His shield brother’s dragon had apparently abandoned the idea of aid, as Hiccup’s betrothed was perched against the Triple Stryke while hers played.

“Are you two having a nice chat?” Hiccup asked them.

“Yes, it’s been love…” Astrid said, until she caught sight of him, “Oh my Gods!”

“That’s what I said!” Hiccup admitted.

“I’m trapped under a Deadly Nadder! Someone tell me what’s happening!” Dagur screamed, though it was muffled by a snuggly blue dragon.

“Your brother,” Astrid started.

“Why is he only my brother whenever he’s being dramatic?” Dagur demanded, still muffled, “You know what, forget I asked that.”

The Hofferson’s eyes rolled, “Hiccup just walked up, flanked by two Night Furies and three Light Furies.”

“What!” The scream was so shrill that Stormfly started and took off for the sky. She stopped five feet above them, Toothless joining her to play, but that was enough for Dagur to get a look at the scene, “Brother!”

“I know!” Hiccup screamed back as he scooped Astrid up, swinging her around, “He’s not the last one anymore!”

Astrid laughed as she was placed back on the ground. She turned back to the other four furies, who had gathered around Toothless and Stormfly sniffing, “What are their names?”

“The Night Fury is Freyjid,” Hiccup pointed, “She’s Toothless’ little sister. The male Light Fury is Brightroar, and his mate is Skathia.”

“They’re beautiful,” Astrid commented as the smallest Light Fury broke from the gathered dragons and came to investigate the two new humans with Hiccup, “Oh, hello! And who is this little one?”

Hiccup smiled at the Light Fury, “Well, I had an interesting conversation with Dad about Mom’s day when we discussed the marriage schedule,” He took no small amount of pleasure in Astrid going tense, “So, I was thinking, since she’s probably going to end up Toothless’ mate, I’d name her Snowfall.”

The blonde Viking grinned, soaring up to pull the Sergeant in for a kiss.

“Oh sure, everyone needs kisses,” Dagur complained, leaning back on his Triple Stryke, Stryker, “Who needs a kissy, Stryker? Mwah, Mwah, Mwah.”

Hiccup laughed as they separated, “Alright, who wants to go flying?!”

Toothless was on him in an instant, throwing his human over his head and into the empty saddle.

Astrid smiled at her betrothed. She hadn’t seen him this excited since they found Dragon’s Edge and started building. Toothless was equally ecstatic, showing his new family off to Stormfly and her human, as he trotted around the clearing with Hiccup on him. 

The future Chief of Berk was really going to be something. Then, hopefully, he’d become a just King with the entire Fury species behind him. She couldn’t wait to be married to him… Theoretically.

“We’re meeting the others on the Undockable Shore,” Astrid told him as she mounted Stormfly.

“You ready, Toothless?”

The dragon’s only response was to take off. Hiccup held his arms out as they went up. The other Furies followed them, although they didn’t seem to know what to think about the humans riding the other dragons. Everything was fine for the first few moments of flight, until Dagur took off ahead of Hiccup screaming, while Stormfly tried to give chase.

“Astrid!”

“I forgot!” The Hofferson screamed back, “Stormfly, drop it! Leave him!”

Snowfall took off after the brightly colored Nadder and Toothless took off after her. Then Freyjid gave chase to her big brother and Hiccup hadn’t had so much fun in years. The older Furies followed them at a more sedate pace. 

Hiccup and Astrid enjoyed flying with the dragons, but quickly headed for the Undockable Shore, knowing their friends were waiting for important news.

When they descended on the shore all the Dragon Riders, now including Eret and Heather, were staring at Hiccup gobsmacked. Toothless went straight back into the air, now that he could, happy to show off for any dragon and human that would pay attention. Hiccup had been trying to get him to just use the damn tail for almost a year; after Drago neither one of them could afford to be at any more risk than necessary. They had more people depending on them directly now and the need to defend their relationship had passed; now it was about defending the family they had forged.

“You just can’t stop yourself! Can you, Haddock?” Snotlout demanded.

“I’m telling you; I don’t plan this stuff.”

“You’re already raising a baby Bewilderbeast on Berk. What’s a few more Furies running around, right?” Fishlegs asked ecstatic, already listing off the differences he could see in Night Furies and Light Furies. 

“My Dad had a very different opinion when I got a two hour lecture on the dangers of overpopulation, if Toothless and I didn’t stay on top of things,” Hiccup told him, “He’s sitting around whittling while your father plots my murder, and I’m the one not on top of things.”

He took a seat next to Tuffnut on one of the larger rock formations, where the others were already lounging. Astrid joined Eret on the formation next to Hiccup and Tuff. Across the small beach on the adjacent boulders were Fishlegs and Ruffnut on one perch, and Heather and Snotlout on the other; although Dagur joined the latter pair to make a point.

The Sergeant stole a couple of the magic mushrooms his lover was snacking on. He needed a pleasant attitude before he faced the Opening Feast that night and every Viking in creation wanted to have a drink with him. His father had always had a drink before going to the Great Hall, especially on special occasions, so Hiccup didn’t feel bad; he wasn’t even the Chief yet, anyway.

“Shouldn’t you already be meeting with your wife?’ Heather demanded of the Berserker Chief. 

“Your first mistake is assuming my wife would let me live without all the details,” Dagur told his sister, “Especially while she’s grounded. Why do we have to meet all the way out here again?”

“Because it’s the one place my father won’t just show up. He hates this shore.”

“Why?” Heather asked the young Haddock.

“No one knows,” All the Vikings from Berk chorused.

“I talked to Dad after breakfast,” Tuffnut told Hiccup, “I would like to think I threatened him enough, but I was thinking, since he’s back anyway, maybe we should send Uncle Grimmel just in case…”

“I do not need my Ergi running to protect me. I can handle your father if he tries to get high spirited before tomorrow night.”

“Well?” Snotlout demanded, “Please, tell me the Old Man’s head isn’t about to explode!”

Spitelout had been lecturing Snotlout for the last year on not making Hiccup’s life more difficult and accepting his placement for marriage whenever Odin willed it. All while Gertrude Jorgenson was pushing for a placement in the Big Four weddings and wanted to pitch a temper tantrum at anything less. The two were about to murder each other and their son was caught in the middle. Snotlout had tried so hard to hide his insecurities, not thinking that Stoick would allow a Jorgenson into the Big Four, but Hiccup knew the absolute torture that his friend had been living with trying to keep the peace and he grinned.

“Relax, it’s your wedding day,” Hiccup instructed the other Viking “I talked to Dad and he agreed with me; tonight is yours and Heather’s. That’s my wedding gift to the two of you!”

It took the Jorgenson a minute to process what he’d actually said, then he shot up from his seat, “You’re serious?”

“Dad’s informing the Council now,” The Sergeant would sooner cut out his own tongue than tell anyone, but he spotted the tears in Snotlout’s eyes as he crossed the beach to hug him. Hiccup pulled him in closer, “Congratulations, Brother.”

“Oh this so exciting!” Fishlegs squealed, “Congratulations, Snotlout! The Opening Feast wedding is huge; the First Marriage is such an honor!”

Everyone jumped in, as Snotlout let go of Hiccup and Heather ran over to jump on the Sergeant, exuberant in her gratitude. Dagur hugged his sister and locked arms with his new brother. 

Once the expected celebration started to settle, Hiccup moved to address the many other weddings, as he reached up to pet Toothless, the dragon flying in low looking for his attention, “Tuffnut and I are getting married tomorrow; yes, you are getting the gift you wanted.”

“Yes!” Tuff cried, “It’s going to be the best day of my life and it hasn’t even happened yet!”

Hiccup laughed, “I intend to make sure of that. And Fishlegs, Ruff, you got the Middle Marriage.”

“Thank Frigga!” Fishlegs said, “My mother might actually let me sleep tonight without mentioning every bad omen she saw this lifetime.”

“I’ve been fine,” Ruff admitted, “I’m the good one in my house at the moment.”

“You will not ruin this for me!” Tuff insisted, “And neither will our father!”

“You keep telling yourself that,” His twin suggested.

Hiccup let their argument linger in the background, tuning them out as he took in Eret’s horrified face from his place next to Astrid, “You okay?”

“I don’t know if I’m afraid he refused to approve our marriage,” Eret said, “Or if…”

“He’s giving you Skullcrusher,” Astrid reminded him, “He is not going to deny you.”

“That’s true,” Hiccup encouraged, taking a knee in front of the other man, as towering over someone was never something he was good at, “And besides, we’re the marriage that’s going to return Berk’s Fleet. Your father is my Ergi’s General, isn’t he?”

Eret had seen Hiccup’s reaction, heard what he called Grimmel the Grisly, but he was still struggling to reconcile the man who’s ships he’d been raised on and Stoick the Vast’s first husband being the same person. He hadn’t heard anyone mention such a thing on Berk in the year he’d resided on the island. It was a lot of take in.

His father had told him that Grimmel was married, but Eret the Elder had never mentioned to whom. Growing up on the ships he’d only learned to keep his guard up and do whatever the silver haired Commander ordered. No one else could be trusted outside of their fleet.

He hoped Hiccup didn’t think that he’d been playing with the Sergeant, or manipulating him in some way, “I didn’t know. When we started this Hiccup, I swear I didn’t…”

“The thought had never occurred to me,” Hiccup told him honestly, as he knew that Toothless had been a most covert topic for years. 

His Ergi probably wouldn’t have told anyone on the Fleet, not while they were in the South. Hiccup had never known that Eret grew up on Grimmel’s fleet before being sent North with Drago. The previous Dragon Trapper always felt weird talking about his life before Berk. 

The Sergeant considered his lover, “I didn’t know either, if that was a concern…”

“Oh you definitely hadn’t a clue who I was when we met,” Eret admitted.

Astrid busted out laughing, “Well, you are not wrong.”

The three of them chuckled. No one would ever say their first meeting was one for the legends, despite Loki’s best efforts. Astrid took a certain amount of pride in her and Eret’s third meeting though. 

“Our kids are going to have so much to live up to,” Tuffnut muttered where he’d reclaimed the rock beside Eret’s, Ruff joining him, “I mean, you three are disgusting. Generals, geniuses, and fleets galore. Thank the gods I’ve managed to keep the bar low.”

Astrid’s arms crossed, “You are a twin, a Thorston, an Original Dragon Rider, the next High Priest and Medicine Man of Berk, because your grandmother does not like anyone else on the whole island…”

“Thank Loki for that little woman,” Tuffnut groaned, “She is the only reason that Dad hasn’t executed us, in the Great Hall, with the family ceremonial sword. Don’t get me wrong, the stick does most of the work, but she’s still there just a swinging it!”

Hiccup snorted, “Fair. Gothi’s been the only one pulling their weight among the Elders this last year. I wasn’t sure if we were going to make it with all our parents depressed.”

“I know it’s also a seasonal thing and we were heading to a much anticipated redo on last year anyway... But, Grimmel the Grisly is back on Berk, guys!” Astrid reminded them. When everyone else went as reverent as her, the General rolled her eyes at Hiccup’s surprised look, “You weren’t the only one who worshipped the… When we were children!”

“Right! Of course, you’re right; you’re always right,” Hiccup blushed, “But he’s given them a chance too.”

Hiccup paused for a moment but everyone could tell that he had more to share. Astrid grabbed his hand and he continued, “He talked about it, on the way back. There was a pack of Night Furies leading the nest when Mom was taken and Dad had to take me out the backdoor because the house was on fire. And Ergi Grimmel was defending the lower dock from a series of dragons that no one could see or stop…”

Astrid knew that part of the story. After all, every kid on Berk had to be told something when Stoick never married and Berk had no Chieftess, “Your Mom’s disappearance got blamed on the Night Furies…”

“Probably on Toothless’ family, given his age and mine… I don’t suppose I’ll be telling the story of the Fallen Valkyrie to our kids like I always planned.”

Everyone was remorseful as they took in the tragedy that happened between Toothless and Hiccup’s families.

“You know what story I’m excited to tell them?” Astrid asked after a few long moments of silence.

“What?” Hiccup asked as Toothless landed, his forehead going to his friend’s, his dragon’s, grateful for the topic change.

“The Tale of the Two Brothers.”

“The what?” Fishlegs questioned, “There is no such thing.”

“Of course there is, we wrote it,” Astrid told him, “You know, the story where two boys, teenagers, who had been trained to hate and fear one another as a means to survival, chose to find a means for survival in one another. The tale of Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third and Toothless the Alpha; the brotherhood that ended the war with all dragons. The story of His Majesty Hiccup Haddock of Berk, King of Vikings and the North, Dragonshore Conquer, Rider of the Dragons’ King, and Peacemaker.”

Hiccup broke his gaze with Toothless to lock on her and Astrid continued, “Because they deserve to get to hear that story. And I think if the story of the Fallen Valkyrie does ever get told, it will only be because it is told as part of a greater story.”

“I didn’t conquer any shores though,” Hiccup pointed out.

“Then what do you think our children will also call Berk, if not the Dragonshore?” She demanded.

He didn’t have an answer for that.

“Get married and have twenty kids already,” Ruffnut demanded, “The tension is killing us.”

“Oh that reminds me,” Tuffnut said, “Emergency meeting of the Super Secret Dragon Pact members after this.”

“The what?” Snotlout asked.

“What in Helheim is that?” Hiccup asked his first friend and romantic partner. Before he and Fishlegs were both named the brains, or he and Snotlout had learned they were supposed to be in competition, or their parents allowed them to know that girls existed, Tuffnut had been in his daily orbit since they were five. Pretty much any time the blonde wasn’t with his sister, they had been together, and Hiccup always found him hilarious in the face of danger. 

Sometimes it was hard to believe that he’d been with the dramatic blonde since they were twelve. Hiccup couldn’t even blame Grimmnut for being on their case; it had been obnoxious since they moved back from Dragon’s Edge, Tuff putting off the ceremony. It was the one prank the Dragon Rider took too far and the worst part was that it had been an accident because of the Drago fiasco.

“If you don’t already know then it doesn’t concern you,” Tuffnut informed them.

“Well…” Astrid’s sarcasm was dry as firewood set ablaze.

“Silence!” Tuffnut hissed dramatically, “Now is not the time to develop a sense of humor, Astrid!”

She raised her hands in surrender to the other blonde and Hiccup shared a look with Fishlegs, “Fine then, have at it. I need to go help prepare the Great Hall anyway.”

“I thought the Chief was back?” Snotlout said, already whistling for Hookfang. 

No one wanted to hang around if Astrid and Tuffnut were in cahoots, especially not the Jorgenson on his wedding day. Heather and Dagur quickly moved to follow him. Fishlegs decided to take his chances with Hiccup and event planning, and his betrothed was well aware that she was banished from her brother’s presence during these meetings.

“He is, so to speak. But I was told before my walk with Grimmel to meet the Furies, that I was to be present and presentable from planning to Grand Feast to assure everyone…”

Astrid couldn’t help but giggle at the fact that he sounded more and more like his father, whenever he quoted the Chief. Hiccup just couldn’t help it.

“That armies, ice, and close calls with death aren’t about to sound off in every direction?” Heather suggested from Windsheer, her Razorwhip, based on the descriptions she’d gotten from Berkains of the Battle for Berk.

“Yeah,” Hiccup agreed, mounting Toothless, “That.”

“Whatever!” Snotlout dismissed taking off on Hookfang, “Let’s go get me married! Snotlout! Snotlout! Oi, Oi, Oi!!!”

The other Dragon Riders took off echoing him, even Heather and Hiccup. They’d all let Snotlout have his day. His bride and Sergeant had faced more than their share of insecurities over the years and, despite his irritating methods, both knew the Jorgenson was really sentimental at heart. 

“Huh, all you have to do is ask them to clear the beach?” Tuffnut hummed, “Who knew?”

Since Ruffnut had left with Fishlegs and Meatlug, Barf and Belch were playing in the waves with Stormfly. Astrid grinned at them; her good girl still loved the water.

“How did you get here?” Astrid asked Eret.

“Caught a ride with Heather when we left Queen Mala to escape the Council meeting,” He disclosed, “I can see why you’re best friends.”

“Despite my earlier tom foolery this is a serious meeting!” Tuffnut called them both to order, “I have a special proposition.”

Astrid’s eyebrow went up, “Which is?”

“I propose that this pledged group of individuals, who have sworn themselves to marry Hiccup Haddock one day, admit one more member!”

Eret and Astrid looked at one another then back to the Thorston, “Who?”

“Hiccup Haddock.”

Eret pinched the bridge of his nose having absolutely no idea what that meant. He opened his mouth to try several times to comment but nothing came out. Finally he turned to Astrid, “What is happening?”

“Personal growth on my part. A few years ago, he would already have an axe to his throat unless he started making sense,” Astrid confessed, “Now I’m just relatively sure he’s going to get there. Tuffnut?”

“I will not disappoint! Okay, you know how Hiccup always gives us the best presents and makes grand gestures like they’re second nature?”

“Some of us are still in the learning process,” Eret admitted as he looked down at his armor. It clearly looked like Skullcrusher and Hiccup hadn’t planned on him getting it until after the Opening Feast tonight, but it made him feel like family and anyone who didn’t like it would have to pull it from his corpse, “But I’ve got a vague idea of that.”

Astrid grinned because what else was she going to do; object? Hiccup definitely got his grandness from his father and mother. Everyone may have cited Grimmel the Grisly as the greatest gift giver on Berk, but Stoick the Vast was no slouch when it came to exuberance and Valka was… Valka. 

“Okay, I say we give him a present.”

  
“What?” Eret asked him. He hadn’t known Hiccup nearly as long as the others, but he couldn’t imagine anything the Viking didn’t have or couldn’t get.

“I think one of us should marry him during his favorite Viking tradition!”

“We already have slots to marry him though,” Eret pointed out, more confused than anything.

“But that’s not what this is! The weddings are him marrying us and we would still do those anyway, no one would let us get out of it. Those aren’t the point!”

Astrid smiled at him, she’d learned to go with his eccentricities, the same as Hiccup, “What is the point then, Tuff?”

“It’s Hiccup,” Tuffnut pointed out, “Do you know how much he would love it, if one of us demanded his hand in front of everyone? No ceremony, no dealing with the pomp and circumstance. Bam, instant marriage status! He’d adore that we loved him enough to do that!”

Astrid rolled her eyes, “I know he thinks Marriage by Conquest is romantic, but who would even do it, Tuff?” 

“Only the most savage Viking among us would be worthy! I mean, we’re talking about calling out Hiccup Haddock, Sergeant of Arms for Berk and the First Dragon Rider, and demanding his hand in marriage in front of the whole tribe and all our allies! Only gods and goddesses need apply, really!”

It took Astrid a minute to realize why both were staring at her.

“Have you gone mad?! I can’t do that! I’m not Hiccup!”

...

“Where is he?” Stoick demanded, “I told him…”

“He’ll be here, Chief,” Spitelout told him, “Relax. You know the kids are just down by the Undockable Shore celebrating. The planning committee isn’t even here yet.”

“They’re always out on that stupid beach, ever since they came back from The Edge,” The Viking grouched, “I don’t even know what they do out there! It’s nothing but sand and rocks!”

“Complain about us, mostly,” Spitelout muttered.

Grimmel snorted and rolled his eyes at his husband’s pacing. He was lounging at the head table with Valka, Gobber, and the Jorgenson, while Stoick worried himself into a state over things going wrong. They had already survived the worst part, in the Commander’s opinion, now that there was a plan to receive the Fleet in a week’s time, and the terribly long Council meeting to get it sorted was over.

He glanced over at Sifang, Thorfang, Lokifang, and Sigynfang where the four were playing with Kingstail, Spitelout’s Deadly Nadder, while Thornado was dutifully monitoring the younger dragons, showing what was a toy and what wasn’t. The four Deathgrippers had been so different since they arrived this morning and Grimmel still didn’t quite know what to make of them now, but it was adorable. The Defenders of the Wing’s Eruptodon was young and excited as well, but he was limited by his size in their space. Skullcrusher, the Rumblehorn also having limited movement, was lounging with the rock like dragon in one of the corners off the Head Table.

“The Heathen Army was spotted off the coast,” Stoick muttered, “They’re the last to give consent to Hiccup’s reign and said they’d give judgement when they arrived. If he’s not here…”

“They’ll give it when he arrives,” A new voice joined them. Grimmel glanced over and rose to greet Aaron Hofferson when the man extended his hand, “Welcome back.”

“Aaron, good to see you again,” Grimmel told him.

“My sister’s son is not going to cause trouble for Hiccup, Stoick,” Aaron sat down before the Chief, between Grimmel and Valka, “He was half in love with the boy when they were here a few years ago.”

“They were boys,” Stoick dismissed the platitude, sitting down beside Gobber on the other side of the table, “They’re both grown now and he’s got the entire Heathen Army behind him.”

“He is not looking to fight, Stoick. I swear, he’s not, Chief. I think he just wants to see Hiccup, give his blessing in person. You remember what they were…” Aaron seemed to realize he’d misspoke and corrected, “I mean, they were so close the summer he visited, after both turned fourteen.”

Grimmel and Valka shared a look. They could both deduce why Stoick wouldn’t have known about Hiccup’s life at that age. The Commander knew that Hiccup was with Gobber when Stoick was gone on the ships every summer, but he hadn’t heard much about their son’s friends prior to Toothless.

“Who is this?” Mala asked from her place at the Chief’s other side. Grimmel liked the Queen of Defenders of the Wing, his nephew had married well, “Someone from the Heathen Army, obviously, but I thought they stayed in the Southern parts of the North.”

“They do. They were some of my biggest allies when we were trying to get Drago’s hunters out of the North,” Grimmel agreed, confused, “I didn’t know they had connections in Berk though.”

Aaron shrugged, “The King of the Heathens married my sister through conquest when our father wouldn’t approve. Her son is the King now.”

Before the Commander could demand more answers, the main doors opened and Hiccup entered with Snotlout, the other Berserkers, and Fishlegs. With their entrance, fifty Berkians, seeing to the feast’s preparations, also trailed in behind them, all with their dragons. Both the parents and the committee stared at Hiccup, who now had not one, but five Furies trailing after him.

Valka wasn’t surprised when Hiccup stopped, waving over the small children who had come with their mothers, letting them come and meet the new dragons. She slipped over to her son, while Snotlout and Fishlegs joined the other adults, as Spitelout hoisted his son off the ground in his excitement, “Way to go, Boy-o! I couldn’t be more proud of you!”

All the men congratulated the young Jorgenson and Heather. Spitelout turned to give the girl a hug as well, although it was less encompassing, “Welcome to the family, lass!”

“Thanks, Spitelout,” Heather told him, as she sat next to Dagur and Mala. 

“Where are the twins?” Grimmel asked. He'd hoped to get to spend time with his niece and nephew before the inevitable anarchy of the party.

“Ruff was lost to the Wingmaidens and her other dragon, Wingnut, when we saw them flying in; he’ll be leaving their island after he leaves here, so emotions are high,” Fishlegs told them. 

The Commander didn’t know who that was, but everyone seemed to accept the answer as normal.

“I know overpopulation is something to be aware of, but Berk has plenty of room to grow safely. Why doesn’t Ruff keep him and train him?” Heather asked, not wanting to irritate the Chief and hurt Ruff’s chances.

“That’s not a bad idea,” Eret commented where he was coming from the backdoor to the Great Hall with Astrid.

“And Tuffnut went to see a man about a debt,” Astrid supplied. All the older Vikings turned to see her and Eret coming in the back entrance then, “Said something about security boosters.”

“I need to see Hiccup,” Stoick started to rise, only to be waved off by Astrid.

“He knows, Chief. Saw his banners on the way in, it’s how we got separated,” She lied so smoothly to cover their brief meeting that Eret could barely hide his approval, “They’re friends. Hiccup will handle my cousin.”

“I’m surprised Toothless didn’t break a wing,” Snotlout grouched, “Hiccup had him going top speed once he noticed.”

“Tuff mentioned that they were close as teenagers,” Astrid shrugged before heading over to Hiccup and the kids, worried about what she saw him discussing with Valka. He wasn’t quite over what he’d realized today. It was a good thing that she’d turned Tuffnut’s idea down, Hiccup didn’t need anymore dramatics after Commander Thorston’s return. 

“That’s one way to put it,” Fishlegs muttered as she left earshot.

“What was that?” Grimmel asked him.

When his only response was a petrified stare he realized that might have been too direct for the blonde Viking. He seemed tender hearted like Gobber. It was an Ingerman trait. 

“Nothing!” He was gone, over to the blacksmith and where those setting the event up were, before Grimmel could even think to object. It got added to his list to ask about later. Fishlegs had been Hiccup’s best friend since childhood, he wasn’t seeking to intimidate the younger Viking.

“Someone should warn her.”

Grimmel glanced over at his other nephew, who was lounging across the table with his wife, hand splayed across her stretched belly. Stoick looked over too, as both knew that they were missing something. 

For the Chief, he knew that there was nothing about Hiccup from the last six years that he didn’t know, but Stoick was equal parts embarrassed and intrigued to realize that there was still a five year gap where he’d been useless. Until today that time period had always just been after Valka was taken. So much for nothing happening on this island that he didn't find out about.

For the Commander, it was just disappointing that getting to his spouses hadn’t rendered a full picture of his son like he wanted. Even spending time with Hiccup had only proven to him how unique the boy was. But, Big Eret was right in what he'd cautioned Grimmel about, before he left to fly for Berk; he couldn’t relive twenty years in a day.

Dagur looked confused by their confusion and the Berserker Chief turned to Snotlout, “They don’t know?”

“Of course not,” Snotlout told him, “No one knows but us eavesdropping tattletales.“

“You’re kidding?”

“Why would I joke about something like that?”

Heather had enough, “What in Hel’s name are you two talking about?”

“Wait a minute, Sis. Are you telling me the blonde didn’t say anything? He was irate! And crying.”

Snotlout shrugged, “Hiccup got to him.”

“I don’t know what that means,” Mala laughed, “But I agree. Hiccup does that.”

Dagur just stared at him. He was so confused. When he left for Berserker Island that summer, he’d genuinely thought that Hiccup would be publicly executed by Stoick for even considering the Heathen prince’s proposition. He demanded, “How does a Heathen Tribe Heir propose Marriage by Conquest to the Hooligan Tribe Heir, and the Chief doesn’t know about it?”

“Because Hiccup made me, Tuffnut, and Fishlegs swear never to tell a living soul,” Snotlout disclosed, “And you went home to your island to terrorize other people. But, I just get this feeling he’s really about to regret not thinking of it once you became friends.”

...

“What are their names?” Valka asked Hiccup, as the Furies adjusted to playing with the children. 

“That’s Snowfall,” Hiccup pointed, “And those are her parents Brightroar and Skathia.”

He noted that Toothless was far from feeling left out. The kids were as fascinated with his new tail and saddle, as they were with the new Furies. Brightroar and Skathia were a little standoffish, but at Toothless’ encouragement both Freyjid and Snowfall were happily entertained by the small humans, particularly Snowfall. 

“Toothless’ sister is Freyjid.”

“That’s a pretty name,” Valka admitted, “Hiccup, I…”

“You know, you being here wouldn’t have changed that much in the grand scheme of things. We would have still been at war with the dragons, there would have been threats from the South, and Dad and I would have still struggled with being too stubborn and not knowing how to communicate,” Hiccup thought about the big picture and he was being honest, as all the kids were distracted by the new dragons. Then he kept thinking, “But it would have meant the world to me. Not feeling like a disappointment, because who I was didn’t stand a chance compared with the legendary figures I was beating myself against like wings.”

“You were always enough.”

“I know,” Hiccup admitted, “But Gobber taught me that, not you…” He scoffed, “Did you know that I thought about running away? When it got really bad? The summer I was fourteen, I almost sailed away from Berk and never looked back, and then again the next year when I had to fight Hookfang... I was going to take Toothless and disappear South; I was going to…”

He looked around the Great Hall just taking it in. He’d almost left this. Everyone’s chance to be at peace. They all had their dragons and their children; they were free to celebrate. Seeing all of them safe and happy, it was a good feeling.

“Why didn’t you?”

“Astrid showed up. And then I thought, if I could convince her… I can only imagine where we’d be if I thought the arena wasn’t the only way to get Dad and Gobber to listen. I can only imagine if you had been there.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“I know.”

“How are things over here?” Astrid asked joining them.

“There’s another Night Fury, Astrid!” Skjall squealed, pointing to Freyjid, who she was sitting on, for her older sister’s inspection.

“Yes there is,” She agreed, “And Light Furies too!”

“Fine, how’s the adult table?” Hiccup inquired.

She could tell that wasn’t totally truthful as Valka moved away, back to the Head Table, but didn’t push him, “Well… Your dad is about to lose his head because of the Heathens’ approach.”

“If only he knew,” Hiccup groaned at the thought, “I haven’t seen your cousin in… seven years now.”

“What is the deal with him and Tuffnut?” She demanded, “I’ve never seen him like that before. He looked ready to raze the Heathen ships to the ground with dragon fire when you took off.”

Hiccup blushed, “Well… None of us really knew girls existed until after you all joined the fire brigade that winter, but the last time the Heathens visited… We were always together, to the point that I wasn’t even spending time with Tuffnut, and then your cousin asked me to leave with him. I was going to at one point.”

Astrid was surprised, “I never knew that… What stopped you?”

“Tuffnut and the other guys stumbled upon us in the forge and he went screaming to Gobber hysterical. Then Gobber got hysterical… He talked me out of it and I swore everyone to secrecy.”

That was a surprise as there wasn’t much that she didn’t know about Hiccup. It wasn’t surprising that her idiot cousin was drawn to the Haddock, of course, everybody was, but their lives could have been so easily changed if the Hooligan Heir had left Berk. She much preferred like with him in it.

Hiccup continued after a breath, not wanting his betrothed to find out later, “I was even going to leave before the Arena, before you found me and Toothless. I was going to go South and find him, I thought… At that point I thought no one else would believe me, but I knew he would. And then you believed me too and I thought I could convince anyone.”

They both heard the low roar outside the Great Hall’s doors that signaled the Heathen Army preparing to enter. 

Astrid decided to check, “You’re not leaving now, right?”

“Right.”

“What!?” They heard Stoick the Vast scream in a tone that usually predicted someone’s demise.

Hiccup spun quickly to take in his father. By the time he turned around, the scarlet maned Chief was staring at him with horror in his eyes, while his Ergi Grimmel wore a mirrored expression. His face scrunched in confusion, the Sergeant not aware of anything he’d done to warrant such a reaction from the two men. It didn’t help that his mother just looked confused, having just gotten back to the table herself.

It was too late to sort anything at that moment, however, because the doors opened and Heathens began pouring into the hall. Red ravens on black cloth entered the space as bannermen stepped in first, per tradition, followed by general witnesses, the leading family, and then the reigning King of the Heathens himself.

Astrid glanced at him as the banners entered, “Deal with this then, I’ll deal with your dad.”

She headed for the Chief and Hiccup glanced down at Toothless, who just looked confused as the witnesses entered, “Defend the kids, Toothless.”

The Night Fury and Dragon King took that job very seriously, positioning himself to keep the kids behind him, and the other Furies moving to help. Hiccup wasn’t really worried about violence toward the children, he just didn’t need five dragons trailing him to be interpreted as a show of force, and Toothless had been clingy all day. The Sergeant moved into the room, taking up the center of the huge space, allowing no doubt that they were getting this over with.

He spotted Astrid’s Aunt Alfhild and she smiled brightly at him as she moved to stand to the side. That was encouraging. He also spotted Bjorn Boor and sent a silent prayer of thanks to Frigga for the Wingmaidens. Ruff didn’t need the temptation to show out on a theatrical level, betrothed to Fishlegs or not; it would have been her and Eret all over again.

The second the Heathen’s King came into view, Hiccup had to admit that he couldn’t breathe as they stared at one another. The other man reminded him a bit of Throk, Mala’s best friend, these days; with his hair shaved on both sides of his head, but a long blonde braid all the way down his back. Hiccup was taller than him now, by about a head, but the Sergeant still felt overwhelmed by the other’s presence. 

Ever since he greeted the Heathens on Berk’s shore seven years ago, looking at the blonde in front of him lit every part of Hiccup’s skin up like dragon fire, and even seven years later, his fireproof armor was of no use against the feeling. It was as strong now as it had been at fourteen, but he could recognize the danger of it standing in the Great Hall, in a way he couldn’t back then. He’d been ready to take the world on, become a Viking, back during their summer; leave Berk behind for a life at sea as an outcast if they had to. 

Now, recognizing the feeling for what it was, this was the feeling of battle. Not the peace of flying, not the excitement of leading, and not even the rush of a good show.

Staring at the blonde, Hiccup knew he was feeling the charge of war. That feeling of facing down the Red Death, of backing Toothless as he faced down the Bewilderbeast, and of taking Drago Bludvist’s head coursed through him. They would have burned the whole world if he’d gone; if they hadn’t disagreed on one fundamental thing.

But, one thing was for certain, those blue eyes still captured him like a Skrill in ice.

The Heathen King started closing the distance between them when he wasn’t satisfied to just stare any longer, “With whom do you spill blood?”

Hiccup moved to do the same and closed the gap so that there was only a step between them, “We spill blood with Ragnar Lothbrok.”

Ragnar took half a step closer. Gods, the Heathen King had to admit, those green eyes were still hypnotizing, “Hiccup.”

“Ragnar.”

The Heathen looked around the Great Hall at all the Berkians and their dragons. With the Dragon Hunters in the South, sightings of the creatures had become more rare as he got older. When his father had started to rid the North of the party, aided by Grimmel the Grisly in the South, the Prince had been excited to take over ending that threat to the Viking way of life. It had always been assured that Grimmel the Grisly was still loyal to his husband and Berk, although Ragnar had to admit his lost love riding dragons along with his people was ambitious… Even for Hiccup.

“I suppose this means you were right,” He admitted, locking eyes with the Sergeant once more.

“About what?”

“The way of the Hammer is mightier than the way of the Sword,” Ragnar confessed, “But it’s not for everyone.”

“That it’s not,” Hiccup conceded. The man in front of him was a Viking warrior and Hiccup hoped his might would never be snuffed.

“I told you that you’d be a King one day,” The blonde recalled their parting words.

“Not quite what you had in mind, I don’t believe,” Hiccup studied him, only their breath between them.

“No, making us Kings of the Heathen Tribe was thinking far too small for your might.”

Hiccup stared at him, wondering why the Viking wasn’t just bestowing his blessing, so they could go talk somewhere that wasn’t the middle of the Great Hall “What are you waiting for?”

“To pay an old debt,” Ragnar told him honestly, “How is my baby cousin? Has she made an honest man of you yet?”

Hiccup laughed, “Not until the First Snowfall; I am marrying Tuffnut tomorrow, though.”

Ragnar chuckled, “Not soon enough apparently. I suppose that’s what I’m here for.”

“What?” Hiccup felt his face pull together in confusion.

His scrunched face only had Ragnar laughing out loud, because Gods, for all Hiccup was handsome as Thor Almighty these days, he was still utterly adorable. Gesturing to the Dragon Rider’s belt, the blonde asked, “Does it really catch fire?”

Hiccup didn’t even hesitate, with a grin Peacekeeper was out and ignited for all to see. Most of the Heathens backed up a step.

Over the novelty after a few moments but wanting more and more, Ragnar reached to feel the dragon scales across Hiccup’s core, then he trailed his hand over the red insignia on the other Viking’s shoulder. Looking around he spotted the dragon that matched the scales; the Night Fury that was glaring holes through his skull, where it had taken a stance in front of Berk’s children. 

Glancing back up at Hiccup, deciding to seize the moment, Ragnar moved his hand up to the other man’s throat, brushing his chin with a calloused thumb. After all, he was only going to get one more chance to do this.

“Oh Odin,” He mumbled, icy shores locked with those emerald seas, “Tonight I drink with you in Valhalla.”

Suddenly both Ragnar’s hands were tangled in Hiccup’s hair and the Sergeant was being kissed by the King of the Heathens like his life depended on it. The Dragon Rider was too lost in the moment to jerk away, as would have been most appropriate, but the rush was too great and all the blood in his body was far south of his brain. Still, in the background, Hiccup distinctly heard an axe unsheath and anarchy break out at the Head Table, as well as horrified gasps from Heathen Tribe, probably thinking a war was about to start, and they were about to be taken out by dragon fire.

Or Peacekeeper, which was still ignited in his hand, Hiccup realized, when his brain started to function again. It was probably best he hadn’t reacted suddenly.

Finally, Ragnar pulled his tongue back and ended the kiss, telling Hiccup as their lips still touched, “Hail to the King.”

Then he turned and, singing the opening words to The Dornish Man’s Wife in a voice that sounded deep and rumbly like a dragon’s, exited the Great Hall leaving Hiccup with the fallout.

First thing the Sergeant did was spin to the Head Table. His father had Astrid picked up off the floor, holding her back, while Aaron had his daughter’s axe but was laid out on the floor; Hiccup thought probably from his betrothed getting one good kick in before the Chief could grab her. His father must have jumped the table, because both his Ergis had scattered, along with his mother and Eret, who looked just as mad, to get away from the angry Hofferson.

Spitelout was trying to help Aaron up off the floor, while the younger Jorgenson and Fishlegs both had their dragons and weapons ready, like they weren’t sure if Hiccup would call for backup. Dagur and Mala had stayed behind the table, the redhead taking a protective stance in front of his wife, but his axe was out in case Hiccup had needed him too; Stryker and their Eruptodon were just off the platform waiting for orders on who to defend. Hiccup was glad it hadn’t turned into a choice for his shield brother to have to make.

Glancing over at Toothless, he raised a hand, to let the Night Fury know that he could come over as guard duty was over.

The only mercy of the whole thing was that Astrid’s eyes were locked on the doors where her cousin had exited and not him, as were Eret’s. They’d have to talk, but the two were ready to kill only Ragnar at the moment.

“Sergeant Haddock…”

The voice was almost timid behind him and he’d certainly never heard Alfhild sound like that before. He pet Toothless and smiled at her, “Alfhild, you’ve called me Hiccup since I was fourteen.”

“I did not know he was going to do that!” She looked about to cry at her son’s antics and Hiccup could understand the concern, although it wasn’t necessary, “I swear he was just supposed to…”

“It’s fine,” Hiccup said, then cut the spark to Peacekeeper, when he realized the weapon wasn’t helping instill confidence, “No one would believe I was involved if things didn’t get a little out of hand. Why don’t you encourage everyone to enjoy themselves and then join us?”

“I’m sure I am not who Stoick the Vast wants to deal with right now.”

“I’ll have him sorted by the time you get there,” Hiccup encouraged with more confidence than he felt, “Don’t worry. It’s fine.”

She didn’t have anything but his word to go on, still Astrid’s aunt moved to do as he asked. With the Heathen Tribe as assured as he could get them that unholy war was not about to break out because their King got a little too enthusiastic, Hiccup turned to deal with his own tribe. 

As Hiccup turned to talk with her aunt, Astrid shoved away from Stoick at the Head Table, making the mountain of a Chief stumble. Eret and Snotlout moved to steady the man, but saw that he was trying with all the conviction Thor bestowed to him not to bust out laughing at his future daughter-in-law’s ire. She grabbed her axe from her father then held him under it, “Where is the family sword?”

“Astrid, he’s your cousin!”

“Where is it!?”

“Yeah, Dad!” Skjall demanded, having run over to her sister once Toothless let the kids go, “Ragnar was bad!”

Aaron sighed, knowing there was no stopping his first born, “It’s in the cabinet in mine and Mommy’s part of the house; where Skjall can’t get to it.”

“Hey!” The small blonde girl huffed put out.

Ruffling her sister’s hair, Astrid looked over toward Grimmel and his spouses, where they had dodged by a column to escape getting caught in any crossings, “Fine, I’ll do it!”

The Commander started when he looked to his right and realized that his nephew, Tuffnut, had appeared at some point, and was leaning behind the column.

“Thank you for the information, Dad,” The General told her father, but Astrid wasn’t through yet, “Now if you'll excuse me, I have a King to butcher.”

“I’ll help,” Eret offered, taking off for the back door behind her and Stormfly.

Stoick sighed and whistled for Skullcrusher, “Please go keep an eye on them. Try to get them back before the ceremony, huh?”

The Rumblehorn pounded his nose on the ground before running after the three of them.

When Stoick looked back up, the planning committee had gone back to decorations, but there were still entirely too many eyes on him. Looking down the stairs that led up to the Head Table, he realized that Hiccup had wandered back over and was looking up at him from the floor, like the Sergeant would rather be facing Ragnarok. Suddenly all Viking bravado was gone from his son and, even having five Furies at his back, didn’t seem to give Hiccup any confidence as he waited for judgement.

Suddenly that fifteen year old claiming to have shot down a Night Fury was before him, but Stoick certainly wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice. He still crossed his arms for show, “Is that what passes for assent these days?”

Hiccup scratched the back of his head, “Apparently. Who knew, right?… Dad, I swear I didn’t…”

The Chief gave a deep laugh, “No one will ever question your virility, son!”

As his father yanked him up the stairs for a hug and, realizing he was not about to destroyed in front of every one of their allies and the Hooligan Tribe, Hiccup was finally able to take in a breath, “Oh Gods, that just happened.”

“Yes it did,” Tuffnut said walking over with a drink in hand, “And it was disgusting. Time to clean that mouth out!”

“Vikings have traded a lot more than a kiss for a crown, Hiccup!” Spitelout told him as Hiccup downed half the mead without pause as all the adults resettled, “You handled that better than most would have, boy-o!”

“Tuff, I swear…” Hiccup only got to start as the Great Hall went back to life around him.

“Relax, it’s fine,” The Thorston dismissed, “Ragnar doesn’t ask permission before terrorizing the world at large. Astrid will handle it.”

Hiccup was relieved. His lover had hated the Heathens’ King since they were fourteen and he almost left. But, luckily a good thrashing from another Hofferson seemed to be enough to appease the blonde Priest of Loki.

“Maybe I should go find her and Eret…”

“Don’t bother, Hiccup,” Alfhild instructed, approaching the table slowly.

Stoick warmly received her, “These kids certainly know how to keep us on our toes. Aye, Gandolfsdottir?” 

“My boy could give Loki a faint heart,” She agreed with him.

“Try it from his uncle’s perspective, who has to live here after you leave,” Aaron suggested to his sister, “Astrid might actually flay him.”

“I wouldn’t try to stop her,” Alfhild told him, “Hiccup, I’m still so sorry.”

“It’s fine, really,” Hiccup dismissed. He didn’t want to talk about it anymore. His history with Ragnar was from a time he didn’t want to revisit, as good as it felt to see the blonde. He needed a distraction to process what had happened, so he told his father, “I’m going to go help Gobber set up. Who wants to light the Conquest Circle?”

Toothless and the little kids were on him in an instant. 

Every viking kid grew up wanting to be either a fair maiden, or handsome viking, being wooed and sought after by the bravest of every tribe through Marriage by Conquest, or even the hero declaring forbidden love that couldn’t be stopped, using the tradition. When one person a day was allowed to demand someone join them in a circle of fire and demand their hand, where no one from any tribe could intervene unless the pursued drew weapons, asked for aid, or cried mercy; most children saw the practice as romantic and so did Hiccup.

Toothless just liked to light the fire to the low burning stones because he knew Hiccup was excited.

Fishlegs and Tuffnut helped him set the stones up correctly per ancient tradition, the kids helping where they could and learning from the Ingerman. Hiccup listened, always liking some of the famous stories that went with the tradition; Vlad the Vicious marrying Sigeen the Sweet, or Igor the Earl marrying Windsor the Wild… Or Stoick the Vast marrying Grimmel the Grisly, right after the new Chief’s first marriage ceremony of the day to Valka the… Fallen Valkyrie.

Hiccup thought about the story as they set up and decided that it was still his favorite.

Toothless stepped up to light the fire when they were finished. One spark was all it took and then it spread throughout the ring. When the circle was completely alight Tuffnut went to get Gothi, so she could put the blessings of all the gods on the circle. Since the blessings weren’t on it yet, Hiccup let the kids that wanted to jump into the fire and imagine themselves as both hero and conquest do so; he’d certainly done it every year until he turned ten.

“Remember when we swore we’d marry each other?”

Hiccup laughed as Snotlout came up behind him. They watched the kids for several minutes, before the Sergeant suggested, “Hey, maybe Frigga will bless our kids, huh?”

“The Haddocks and the Jorgensons… Berk would burn down before sunrise.”

Hiccup snorted, “You’re probably right.”

“What in the world is going on around here?” A shrill voice demanded.

Snotlout’s forehead landed hard on Hiccup’s shoulder as he groaned.

“I mean, the biggest day of my son’s life and our allies decided to behave like animals!” Gertrude Jorgenson shouted.

It looked like Estrid Hofferson, who hated her sister-in-law, had gone to get her best friend. Hiccup could feel Snotlout’s prayers for Ragnarok and he felt for the other Dragon Rider, throwing a hand up to pat the shorter man’s helmet on his shoulder to offer comfort. Estrid and Gertrude were the most obnoxious women in all of Berk; even their children agreed on that sad but true fact. One was just more sane than the other.

When the Jorgenson jumped behind him, the Sergeant turned and realized that Spitelout had come up behind his son, seizing him by the shoulders, “I can handle your mother. Why don’t you two run down to the kitchen and grab food? Before everyone starts pouring mead down your throats like water.”

Snotlout sighed, “Thanks, Dad.”

Seeing his own father moving to intercept Gertrude, Hiccup nodded, “Thanks indeed. Fishlegs?”

“I’m good, don’t want to leave Gobber to the vultures.”

That was probably wise. And Tuffnut was still fetching Gothi. Heather and Mala were watching the show with his mother, like Gertrude and Estrid were the best entertainment they’d seen this lifetime.

“Dagur?”

Mala waved her husband off instantly and the Berserker Chief was at Hiccup’s side, arm slung around his shoulders as he dragged the Sergeant toward the descending stairs to the kitchen, “I did a bad thing, but it was an accident, I swear.”

“I’m sure that will stop him from being crushed by four hundred pounds of rage,” Snotlout chuckled as he trailed behind them.

Grimmel studied them three younger Vikings as they disappeared, the Furies and Hookfang following, although the Triple Stryke stayed with Mala and the Eruptodon. He’d been surprised earlier, when Dagur revealed how Hiccup and Ragnar knew one another, but it made sense once he saw them. They were magnetic; much like his son and the Sergeant’s dragon. 

As Spitelout moved off to help contain his wife, the Commander took a seat at the small table Gobber had claimed now that most decorations had a place, “Why didn’t you tell Stoick?”

“Tell him what?” The blacksmith inquired, although after Ragnar’s little display he had his suspicions.

“About Hiccup’s attempt to sail away to another tribe and never return, Gobber!”

“Who talked?”

“Dagur,” Grimmel confessed, “Apparently he didn’t know it was a big secret.”

“I doubt that will make Hiccup anymore understanding,” Gobber sighed, “All I knew was that I talked him out of it; he swore as long as his father didn’t have to know, then he wouldn’t go. I conceded to make sure he stayed on Berk.”

“I don’t really know how much he... I only knew something happened when Tuffnut came in hysterical. Then Hiccup followed him into the forge and… We wound up having it out before everyone was sworn to secrecy. That was it.”

“You should have told him, Gobber,” Grimmel hissed, “Why didn’t you?”

Gobber sighed, “After Valka was taken… He was in such a bad way, Grim, and I was… always afraid to push Stoick too hard.”

Knowing the smith saw the parallel with what the man, himself, said to the Chief that morning about Hiccup, Grimmel accepted his reasoning. He wanted more information, so he headed over toward Tuffnut and his mother by the Conquest Circle. Between himself and his mother’s stick, Grimmel hoped he’d made his nephew’s life easier by having it out with his brother; Grimmnut had certainly seemed apologetic. Still, Gothi Thorston was getting older now; he imagined that his nephew would be doing this alone by next year. 

He took a knee next to the younger Thorston and several other serious devotees, some to one god in particular or just those who were particularly devout, to wait for her to finish the blessings. When his mother finished and moved off into the Great Hall’s growing numbers, all of them stood and most moved to depart as well. The uncle and nephew stayed, looking at the burning circle.

“What do you want to know?” Tuffnut finally asked him.

Grimmel thought about his question, “What debt did Ragnar incur with you and how?”

“He stole something from me,” The High Priest of Loki disclosed.

They both watched across the circle as, with Spitelout containing Gertrude, Stoick moved toward the stairs leading to the kitchen for his own explanation. Stoick and Hiccup had grown a lot as father and son, both hoped the pair could handle this conversation. They could admit that Stoick had done far better with managing the public part of the display than he had the dragon fight in the arena; that was hopeful.

“We found him and Hiccup in the forge. Everyone wanted to hangout with Prince Ragnar the summer that he was here. He was wild and a fierce fighter, but he wasn’t out to simply be a terror like Dagur in those days,” Tuffnut clarified as they watched the Chief disappear, “He just screamed future Viking legend and everyone wanted to be a part of the story. I just wanted to know where Hiccup had vanished to all summer.”

“Boy, did I find out,” Tuffnut growled and Grimmel could see a fire in his eyes. This was the Viking that Astrid spoke of earlier, who wanted to burn Ragnar’s ships on the water before Berk, “Gobber waved us on to Hiccup’s part of the forge knowing what we were there for. He didn’t think a thing about it. We weren’t expecting to walk in on the proposal of the century.”

“What was his proposal?”

“Sail away as my husband and I will make you a King,” Tuffnut recited, “Even if we start as outcasts, I will give you a dynasty greater than that of Westeros.”

Grimmel flinched, everyone from the North knew the legend of Westeros. A dynasty so great that it united all the known world, except for two independant powers across a vast river. Ragnar had offered to conquer the world for Hiccup, that was telling.

“And what he stole from you?”

Tuff’s eyes rolled, “Much like today, after his proposal, the rogue little bastard stole Hiccup’s first kiss.”

“Indebted by a kiss,” Girmmel huffed, “But paid with one as well.”

The Dragon Rider shrugged, “Hiccup preaches the way of the Hammer and carries a sword named Peacekeeper. You don’t worship Loki and fear his eccentricities.”

Grimmel laughed, tapping his nephew under the chin, “No, you do not.”

Stoick headed for the stairs as soon as Valka told him to do so. She could see that he was antsy and needed to talk to Hiccup. Yes, part of him couldn’t believe that Gobber never told him, but the truth was that most of the Chief understood why. He had not been of any use once he started avoiding the topic of Hiccup’s parentage, all because he’d liked feeling like he actually had a piece of Grimmel still on Berk with him. 

Never had it occurred to him that Hiccup thought of leaving their tribe. That was the part that was killing him. His son had been so miserable, thought he was so out of place here, that he’d considered sailing away with the Heathens. Valka never would have been found, Grimmel never would have laid eyes on him again, Gobber would have fallen apart… 

Stoick would have descended into Helheim, all thoughts of Valhalla lost to him. It would have felt like the day he came back and thought Hiccup was dead due to Dragon Training, or like when he thought his boy lost to the Red Death, or frozen to death by Bludvist’s Bewilderbeast. As a father, Stoick had always been ready to go first, glad to face any battle his son wasn’t ready for. It may be a Viking’s occupational hazard, but the thought of losing Hiccup was never something he could have actually faced and moved on from, no matter how he encouraged Gobber.

“...I cannot believe you!” There was a loud crashing sound as he approached the kitchen, “I manage to survive that shit show and you sell me out at the Head Table…”

Stoick flinched. Hiccup wasn’t taking the news well, then.

More crashing thundered from within before his son kept yelling, “What in Helheim is your problem? You can’t even stop being the scourge of my life when you aren’t even trying!” There was even more banging.

“Not that one!” A woman shouted, “That’s my good pan, use this one.”

Then even more crashing and Dagur’s voice joined the fray, “I’m so sorry, Brother! I just thought everyone knew! I mean, Astrid didn’t but I thought it was obvious why!”

“You loud mouthed vile son of…” Hiccup kept shouting and Stoick saw a bright light cause a glow even in the hallway.

“No, Hiccup! Don’t! Think of Uncle Grimmel!” Dagur begged.

“Give me to sword, Haddock!” Snotlout was demanding, “Give it!”

When the glow disappeared Stoick decided it was now or never and stepped into the kitchen. From the doorway, the scene could have been funny. Snotlout and the woman running things in the kitchen were the only ones standing, the Jorgenson with an unignited hilt in his hand. Dagur was on the far side of the kitchen, hiding behind an overturned table, surrounded by thrown kitchen utensils, but the Chief hadn’t even unsheathed his axe, obviously having no intention of fighting Hiccup in return.

His son had been thrown out of reach from the heavy objects by Snotlout and was currently picking himself up from the floor. Hiccup’s breath was as ragged as Stoick had ever seen, except for maybe after Drago’s execution. It was as the Sergeant picked himself up that he spotted his father and all his rage fled him.

Hating the terror that took hold of his son, worse now that Hiccup knew what Stoick did. He glanced over at his son’s friends, “Give us the room, boys?”

“Yes, Chief,” They both chorused. 

Dagur clearly felt terrible, as Hiccup just clinched his fists and refused to even look at him. Stoick squeezed his shoulder as his nephew passed and hoped it was encouraging; he also spotted a bruise starting to sprout on the younger ginger’s jaw. It looked like Hiccup had gotten one good punch in before Snotlout got distance between them. As far as the Hooligan Chief was concerned, this was no one’s fault but his own.

Snotlout left Peacekeeper on the counter before he escaped back out of the kitchen.

Giving Hiccup a minute, Stoick moved over to pick up the table. By the time he was putting the chairs to rights, his son had come to help him and lots of food was conveniently ready to go upstairs, meaning they were alone. Not wanting this to feel like an interrogation, Stoick took the seat next to Hiccup, rather than the opposing seat like they did at home.

“Son…”

“Dad…”

“You go first,” Stoick suggested.

“I think it’s been well established that I never go first,” Hiccup pointed out, “You go first.”

“Alright…” Stoick agreed, then realized he had no idea what to say. Sighing, he started with his own curiosity, “Are you still in love with him?”

Hiccup laughed, surprised, “No, yes... I love him, but I don’t know if a marriage would work. We’re too…”

The Chief accepted the grand gesture toward the stairs and what had just happened for what it was, though he offered, “They’ve been built on less.” 

Still, that helped encourage Stoick that this wasn’t something to uproot all Hiccup’s plans for the season and his entire life. This was just a surprise from their past, “Can you tell me what happened that summer? While I was gone on the ships.”

“I was there when Spitelout and Aaron greeted the Heathens since you were gone,” Hiccup told him, “Summer had just started and Ragnar and I… We had a connection. If he wasn’t with Astrid’s family, he was with me. I was… In a bad way.”

“Tell me,” Stoick instructed, “All of it.”

“I didn’t have a place here. I wasn’t a Viking, I wasn't a leader. I wasn’t even sure if I was your son,” Hiccup admitted, “I was just Gobber’s apprentice and Tuffnut’s boyfriend, but he was a twin and I thought his first priority would always be Ruffnut. I wasn’t even sure if he cared that much about it…”

The Sergeant sighed, “And then suddenly there was this kid who just… We all knew Ragnar was hard charging for a place in the legends and Valhalla in equal measure. I was skeptical at first because why would this Viking have any time for me, but then we just kept pulling to one another. We just worked and I belonged with him.”

“Why didn’t you go?” Stoick only got the nerve to ask after a few minutes of silence, once he was sure Hiccup wouldn’t add anything else without prompting.

“Tuff, Fishlegs, and Snotlout, along with Dagur the Deranged, walked in on him asking,” Hiccup admitted, “And right after that he kissed me. I didn’t even know they were there until we heard Tuffnut gasp like he’d been struck. I’d never told Ragnar I was with anyone, because it hadn’t come up. I hadn’t been expecting it and…”

Shrugging Hiccup traced the patterns on the table, “I don’t remember anything but running out after Tuff trying to explain. By the time I caught up with him, he was crying on Gobber’s arm and had gotten enough of the story out that… We had it out badly.”

Hiccup winced, because he didn’t even like to remember fighting with Gobber, “When he pointed out that the difference between the Heathens and the Hooligans was always that we followed the way of the Hammer, not the way of the Sword, I couldn’t argue against the fact that I would always practice the way of the Hammer. I wound up agreeing that I’d stay, as long as you didn’t find out.”

“I made the other boys swear to silence,” Hiccup gulped, “Dagur was sent home before I could make him, not that it would have meant much in those days. Then, I told Ragnar no.”

“What did he propose for your marriage when he asked?”

“A dynasty greater than that of Westeros,” Hiccup told him honestly, “He also promised to wait for me… I was going to take Toothless down south before the Arena, if Astrid hadn’t found us.”

Stoick could do nothing but rub his forehead, his head throbbing, “I am going to owe that girl one wedding gift straight out of Asgard… I’m so sorry, son.”

...

Skullcrusher and Stormfly were tracking the Heathen King up the Ice Mountain, near the Glacier of Berk. Astrid had expected him to head back for the shore, his ship, and every Heathen sailor left behind who would defend him. Upon closer inspection, Ragnar had never done what was expected.

When they had been little that was something Astrid loved about her cousin. He was willing to do things with her that the other girls in the village wouldn’t; it was the same reason she’d loved Ruffnut and Heather. It hadn’t occurred to her what Hiccup had been saying earlier, not until that idiot’s tongue was in her betrothed’s mouth. She’d thought they’d been Shield Brothers, like Hiccup and Dagur; instead, Ragnar had wanted Hiccup to run away with him as a lover. 

Back when they were fourteen, it had never occurred to her where Ragnar used to go when he was spending time with the boys of Berk. Now she was thinking of every minute that he’d spent away from her and the other Hoffersons.

“What was the song he was singing on the way out?” Eret asked her.

She sighed, “It was The Dornish Man’s Wife. He thought he was being funny.”

“I’ve never heard it before.”

“It’s part of the Westeros Legends; they’re popular here in the North,” They flew over the cave where she and Ragnar used to train together the summer he visited. She shrugged, “I'll let him get to the good part before I disembowel him.”

Eret couldn’t tell if she was actually going to try and harm her cousin or not. He knew Astrid could easily follow through, but she also just liked to vent her violent ideas most of the time. At first he’d wanted to get mad at Hiccup, but then he had to admit that the Sergeant was still unmarried. Anywhere he’d been in the North, until a Viking was married, anyone was allowed to make a bid for their affection. Betrothals ended all the time. 

Plus, what good would have been done if Hiccup started a fight? But, he was glad for Astrid’s reaction, it made him feel vindicated in his jealousy.

They landed outside the cave on relatively dry ground. There was still a little snow up here, even in the warm months, but such was life on Berk. There was already a light burning inside, so at least her cousin wasn’t completely useless, and it sounded like they’d just arrived for the song to restart.

Astrid grabbed her family’s sword, her axe still on her back, and headed toward the entrance. Eret followed her to confront the Heathen tribe King.

“The Dornishman's wife was as fair as the sun… and her kisses were warmer than spring… But the Dornishman's blade was made of black steel… and its kiss was a terrible thing,” Eret noticed that he wasn’t sitting. Instead the Viking was perched on the wall, just waiting for them to get there, singing into the fire he’d started.

“The Dornishman's wife would sing as she bathed… in a voice that was sweet as a peach… But the Dornishman's blade had a song of its own… and a bite sharp and cold as a leech,” He kept singing a chorus and Eret put together why Astrid’s family sword was important. It was made from a metal that was black as Toothless.

Ragnar started moving toward Astrid, dancing in a slow sway as he approached, “As he lay on the ground with the darkness around, and the taste of his blood on his tongue… His brothers knelt by him and prayed him a prayer, and he smiled and he laughed and he sung…”

"Brothers, oh brothers, my days here are done, the Dornishman's taken my life… But what does it matter, for all men must die, and I've tasted the Dornishman's wife!" He barely got out the last word before Astrid, stone faced, connected her fist to his face.

Eret couldn't stop himself from snorting as he got the joke.

Astrid couldn’t seem to stop hitting her cousin once she started. He hit his knees from the first blow and she struck him on his other side when he tried to stand back up, “Stay down, I can stomach you better on your knees.”

“Well,” Ragnar confessed, “I’ve never been anything but complimented on my kneeling.”

She unsheathed her axe and dropped the handle on his stupid head, “How dare you!”

“How dare me?” Ragnar scoffed, “How dare you! Not sealing the deal when you’ve had every opportunity. I’ve been trying to marry him since we were fourteen!”

She brought her knee into his chest and swung the sword down to strike the blade into the ground by his head when he hit the dirt, “If you ever so much as touch him once we’re married…”

“I’d never dishonor you, cousin,” He told her honestly, spitting blood from his mouth, “But do get on with it.”

The General paced back further into the cave, unable to even look at him without wanting to take his disgusting mug from his shoulders. He pulled himself up to sit on his arse, arms draped over bent knees to relieve the pressure on his chest, as blood dripped down his face, but Astrid noted he didn’t move to stand any higher. After all, Heathen tradition was that one took the beatings they earned. 

“And Eret, Son of Eret,” Ragnar took him in, “I see you found a place in the North. Quite the place, I must say.”

The Heathen King had been a relentless flirt in the South, when Eret was first dispatched with Drago’s militants to move into the North. In fact Eret had caught on quickly that Ragnar tended to act as if that was all anyone else was good for; flirting and fucking. Eret couldn’t help but wonder if that had something to do with Hiccup, “What can I say? You Hoffersons and your Haddock’s seem to have a type.”

“What happened between the two of you? All of it,” Astrid demanded, coming back to loom over her cousin.

“Hiccup and me?” Ragnar shrugged, “I was in love with him. But I couldn’t convince him to leave with me. We kissed once at fourteen and that was all, until today.”

“That’s all?” Eret was surprised.

“Hiccup’s not difficult to carry a torch for,” Ragnar dismissed his skepticism, “I hoped every day he’d show up down South, even if he brought that lanky Loki devotee. Until I heard you two got betrothed, and then I knew it wouldn’t happen. But, when you kept putting it off…”

“You decided to have your fun,” Astrid demanded, smacking him upside the back of the head as hard as she could.

“So to speak,” The Heathen told her groaning.

She sat down on a rock and the two Hoffersons stared at one another for the longest time. Eret didn’t know exactly what passed between them and neither did the dragons at the mouth of the cave he shared looks with. Still, some agreement was reached and Astrid moved to take the all black sword from the ground, putting it away on Stormfly.

Only then did Ragnar stand and attempt to stop the bleeding from his nose and mouth, “So, what happened after I left?”

“Well, I think someone spilled your and Hiccup’s little secret to Stoick,” Astrid confessed, “He didn’t say so, but he was screaming right before you came in.”

“Great, Stoick the Vast on my case, that should be a nice exchange,” The King muttered.

“And Aunt Alf almost lost her heart from her chest,” Astrid admitted, she’d spotted her Aunt’s horror as she approached Hiccup, “I’m guessing they didn’t know that was going to happen?”

“No one did,” He shrugged, “It was a last minute decision.”

“Hiccup looked calm enough,” She put her axe away as well, “So I’m thinking no fights would have broken out. Provided Snotlout’s mother doesn’t show up before we get back, that is.”

They all heard voices outside the cave, dulled by the stone walls. Eret led as they all moved to see who was outside.

It was Snotlout and Dagur on Hookfang, Astrid rolled her eyes commenting, “He’s like a curse. Say his name and he appears.”

Unaware of them, Snotlout was telling his bride’s brother, “Don’t worry, there’s always ice up here. It’ll do for your jaw.”

“He’s so tiny,” Dagur complained, “How does he hit that hard? I have teeth loose.”

“What happened?” Astrid demanded, startling them.

Dagur rolled his eyes at Ragnar’s bloodied and beaten appearance, “And it serves you right, you irritating little shit.”

Snotlout rolled his eyes to Dagur, “Thor’s mighty hammer met Dagur’s paper jaw this time.”

“What did you do to Hiccup?” Astrid demanded while Eret and Ragnar didn’t get the reference, as neither had heard the tales of Dragon’s Edge before. 

“I may have accidentally been the one to reveal Hiccup’s history with Ragnar the Upstart over here to Stoick,” Dagur confessed, swishing some of the ice cold water in his mouth, while Snotlout wrapped a chunk of ice in a cloth for the external pain.

“Dagur!”

“I didn’t mean to, Astrid. I figured everyone knew but you; no offense,”

She rolled her eyes, “Hiccup told me.”

“Of course he did,” Ragnar muttered, joining Dagur by the stream to clean off. 

“Anyway,” Snotlout gestured back in the direction of the village, “My mother showed up and we tried to escape. Hiccup found out about Dagur the Disloyal over here and they fought…”

“It was an accident!”

“And then the Chief showed up to murder Hiccup and we flew up here,” Snotlout concluded.

Her arms went out in exasperation, “You just left him?”

She moved quickly for Stormfly, Eret following her to Skullcrusher. Dagur and Snotlout climbed back on Hookfang as well.

“What were we gonna do, Astrid?” Snotlout demanded, “Tell Stoick the Vast no? I choose life, thank you.”

Ragnar chuckled from the ground, “Is there any chance I could catch a ride back with one of you?”

“No,” All three of the men chorused.

His cousin seemed to be more forgiving as she grinned, “I have a better idea. Stormfly, fetch.”

...

The sun was setting as they entered the Great Hall. Snotlout was apprehended by his mother, Spitelout following them, to go and get ready. Dagur was also taken to Heather by Mala, as apparently she wanted her big brother. The bride wanted her best friend as well, but Astrid needed to see Hiccup in one piece before she joined the Berserkers. Eret left to join his fellow trappers, who were being welcomed to Berk as members of the tribe that night. 

Moving into the Great Hall, Astrid was followed by Stormfly and her prize. As soon as she was through the door, her Aunt abandoned her place where the Heathen Tribe had gathered for the First Marriage. The General embraced the previous Queen warmly.

“I’m so sorry, Astrid,” Alfhild told her niece, “I had no idea…”

“It’s alright, Auntie,” The Dragon Rider assured her, “I’ve handled it. Stormfly, drop him.”

The previous Queen of the Heathens moved over to her son as he picked himself up from the floor. With all her might and all the bejewelled rings on her hand she backhanded her son in front of their tribe and allies; even Astrid flinched for her cousin, “You will never disrespect Berk or my family in such a way again.”

“Yes, Mother,” Ragnar took it like a champ though, even as more blood covered his face once again.

As the two moved to rejoin the Heathen Tribe in attendance, Astrid moved over to where her family was gathered. She saw that the Thorston family, minus Gothi, had gathered to claim the seats right in front of her parents. Strategically, she moved to sit behind Tuffnut, who was between his twin and Grimmel the Grisly.

“Have you seen them?” She asked as the Chief’s chair remained open, as well as the spot next to it for his heir. Valka had already taken her place as Chieftess. Ergis tended to stay with their families if they weren’t the only spouse, but she’d known exceptions to the rule, as Gobber had been for a long time.

“No one has,” Tuff told her, “They must still be down in the kitchens. The Old Woman went down to get them about two minutes ago.”

“Wonderful,” Astrid muttered and turned to the Ingerman family behind her. Fishlegs and Gobber were conveniently next to one another, “Anything?”

“Not a word,” Gobber admitted, “I haven’t been this nervous since the arena.”

“Hiccup can handle his Dad,” Fishlegs hoped anyway, “They’re probably fine.”

There was a slight dull to the surrounding conversation when Hiccup and Stoick emerged, Gothi leading them. The Chief’s eyes might have been red, or it could have been the distance, but otherwise Astrid didn’t spot anything out of place. Hiccup caught her and Tuffnut’s eyes, giving them a little wave of reassurance, as the Furies and Thornado followed them. 

As Toothless led the other Furies over to sit with the Original Dragon Rider’s families and their dragons, Astrid spotted Hiccup check on the Thorstons and Ingermans, and her moron cousin. Hiccup raised an eyebrow at his bloody appearance, while Ragnar just nodded to his mother and shrugged; the gesture made her betrothed chuckle and she hated it. Once Toothless had the Furies settled with Fishlegs and the twins, the Dragon King took off for his place next to Hiccup, while Thornado reclaimed his spot next to Stoick, and Astrid took off for Heather.

His husband had been crying, that was the first thing Grimmel noticed when the man and their son emerged. Hiccup looked to be fine; the Commander wondered if he only had fond memories of his time with the Heathen prince turned king. He hated the idea of trying to take on the South and the Great Heathen Army, but if the young King thought he was going to take Hiccup now, Grimmel would do whatever he had to in order to protect his son’s life and future.

Once the Chief and Hiccup were seated, it didn’t take long for Snotlout and Heather’s families to come in, taking their seats at the Head Table. Gothi entered next, carrying a ceremonial white and gold cloth for the hand tying, and her staff. Dagur and Mala moved from the table to stand for Heather, while Spitelout and Gertrude moved to stand for Snotlout.

The couple entered through opposing doors and then walked through the Middle of the Great Hall to the Circle of Conquest where Gothi was waiting. Heather was wearing a long white dress, with metal accents from Windsheer that Hiccup had helped her melt into the shape of the Berserker sigil on her chest. Snotlout helped her step over the flames, while Dagur stooped briefly to lift her dress over; no one wanted the bride to catch fire.

Astrid spent the entirety of the brief ceremony trying to mentally prepare herself for what she’d agreed to do. Yes, the wedding was beautiful and she’d be eternally ecstatic for her best friend, even if Heather had somehow wound up catching feelings for Snotlout, but her mind was racing with its own skepticism. Yes, she and Heather once swore they’d get married on the same day, but what if she wasn’t as ready as she thought in her rage at Ragnar?

As soon as the Welcoming Ceremony started, the Hofferson escaped out a side door, unable to breathe in the crowd. The world was spinning and she didn’t know what to do about it. As things were starting to get dark, something changed.

“...There, see, breathing is good!” A voice encouraged, “Just keep matching me. We’re fine.”

When her eyes could focus, Astrid realized that it was Tuffnut. She had managed to get outside the Greall Hall to collapse in a deserted hallway against the fall, her head in her arms, and her knees pulled to her chest. Tuffnut had managed to sit cross legged around her leg, with his head propped on her knees, their faces only an inch apart.

“Tuff?”

“Hey, there she is,” He cooed, “You had me worried there for a minute.”

She took a deep breath, “Who all noticed?”

“Well, Hiccup, Eret, and the Chief all looked ready to postpone the welcoming ceremony for the Dragon Trappers,” He admitted, “But they went on with it when I came out. I think your dad was concerned, but he stayed too.”

“I’m an idiot.”

“No you’re not,” The Thorston sighed, “I pushed too hard. Astrid, if you’re not ready, we don’t have to…”

“It’s not the marriage part,” Astrid told him, feeling nauseous, “Or even the calling out part.”

He grabbed her hand, “Then what is it?”

“What’s Hiccup like? Intimately?”

The question threw him off so much that Tuffnut had to run it through his head a couple of times to be reassured he’d heard her right. Ruff was his twin, he knew that their maidenhead meant that sex was treated differently with women, as well as the fact that them having sex with men led to consequences like screaming babies that no one sanctioned. Still, when they’d both started to mature, their parents sat them down and answered all their questions in one go, “Your parents never…”

The General snorted, fiddling with the metal bracelets for each major God and Goddess that Hiccup made for Tuff when the Viking became the High Priest of Berk, despite his status as a primary devotee of Loki, until Gothi left them for Valhalla, “My mother was no maid when she married my father. She was attacked by a band of pirates in the South and… Stoick was on a ship that summer, looking for Valka, this was right after she was taken. He brought my mother back to Berk with him and granted her a place in the tribe.”

He listened. No one their age had ever heard of such a thing about Estrid Hofferson. Astrid was the youngest of their band of Vikings, but Estrid had been married to Aaron and that was all anyone ever said.

Astrid snuffed as she tried not to cry, “I… She's my mom, but she wanted her girls to be aware of dangerous men a little too much. The only stories we ever got were of political marriages, forced women… Her favorite was the Lore of Jeyne Poole.”

Tuffnut flinched at that, having heard the story of a girl flayed for a man’s pleasure, “Not a story I ever want my daughters to know.”

“Agreed.” 

Pulling her close, he kissed her forehead, “If today’s been too much, we scrap the whole idea. Astrid, I would never want you to do something that made you uncomfortable.”

“If there’s some way it’s not?” Astrid asked, moving to fiddle with his Medicine Man ring.

“Well, if it’s just the sex,” The twin shrugged, “Just take it off the table.”

She rolled her eyes, “I am not cheating Hiccup…”

“Hiccup is not going to do a damn thing if he thinks you’re scared anyway,” Tuffnut assured her, “Why don’t you just come down to Eret’s and watch Hiccup with us?”

Blue eyes connected on both sides, “Is that… I mean... “

“Relax, it’s just a suggestion,” He told her, “And lots of girls are nervous the first time. Plenty of Ergis help them adjust and feel safe. It’s perfectly normal, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Really?”

“Sure, we just never invited you because you didn’t show interest,” Tuffnut acknowledged. He’d own that Astrid was so confident about everything, he hadn’t expected this to be something that the mighty Hofferson was afraid of, “Just think about it, Astrid. Me and Eret, we’ll back you no matter what you decide. Hiccup’s never going to do anything you’re not totally enthusiastic about.”

Tuffnut picked her up off the ground and they used the water from a nearby fountain to wash her face real quick. When she looked like she’d maybe gotten misty during the wedding, both slipped back into their seats to watch the rest of the welcoming ceremony with their families. Aaron grabbed his daughter’s hand, not needing to know what was wrong to know there was something there, and Skjall pushed closer into his sister’s side. That gave the General back some of her confidence.

Hiccup caught her glance from his seat and seemed to sag with relief when she smiled at him. Stoick hadn’t seen her come in as he was presenting Berk banners to the new tribe members. Heather sure noticed and looked ready to tear down from the Head Table to check on her; Astrid gave her a quick thumbs up to keep her from doing so.

When the First Marriage and Initiation Ceremony were over, the music started and everyone began eating and drinking. As the general witnesses started to move, mingle, and dance, Fishlegs appeared by her side, “Are you alright?” 

“I’m fine, Fishlegs,” Astrid assured him, “Tuffnut made it better and no, I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Of course, but I’m going to go tell Hiccup that,” The Ingerman got up, “They can’t move until the meal finishes.”

He took off before she could stop him, so when Heather locked eyes with her, Astrid left her family’s table to go explain things to her best friend. She barely made it to the Head Table saying, “Congratulations! I was here to see the wedding, I prom…”

“No one cares about that Hofferson,” Snotlout dismissed from his place next to Heather, “Are you okay?”

“What happened? Is something wrong?” Heather questioned.

“No, not really,” Astrid sighed, “I had a minor freak out. Tuffnut helped.”

“Huh, so he’s not completely useless after all,” Ruffnut commented as she came to join them. The three girls embraced and then the Thorston continued, “Who would have thought Heather would be the first of us to get married?”

“Definitely not Heather,” The woman in question agreed.

“I can’t believe Blondie is going to be the last,” Dagur commented from beside Heather’s seat, “You’ve been together for six years, good Gods.”

“You never know, Dagur,” Astrid commented, “I might try to steal your brother away at any moment.”

When the horn sounded for the end of the formal meal, Hiccup was out of his chair and to the Head Table before the final echo. Astrid let him put an arm around her, grateful that he didn’t ask, as Fishlegs and Tuffnut followed just a step behind him. She felt closer to the Thorston now and knew that he wouldn’t tell Hiccup anything until she made a decision, as that would affect what the Sergeant did and didn’t need to know.

The party was jovial and the celebration was large. Bets and fights started to break out as everyone got hyped for the next morning’s first Dragon Race, especially as word started to spread to Berk’s allies just what they’d see. Eret came to check on her once she moved away from the Head Table and she let him have her first dance, before feeling settled enough to actually try and eat something.

The large dance floor took up all the center room surrounding the Conquest Circle. Fishlegs and Ruffnut were glued to the activity, as were Heather and Snotlout. Stoick even led Valka out for a dance when their song played and Mala tried, but retired quickly with Dagur when she grew tired. Astrid was looking around for Hiccup when he settled beside her and they talked about his conversation with Stoick; the General was relieved the conversation didn’t have to be about her.

Grimmel and Grimmnut took opposite sides of the column that Tuffnut had his back to, where the younger Viking was glaring daggers into Estrid Hofferson’s being from a dark corner. The older Thorstons were clearly identical twins, their only visible difference was Grimmnut’s waist length braided hair. They’d also always had very different styles, as Grimmel was dark and serious, while his brother, when not irritated, was light and jovial.

The boy’s father started, “Well?”

“What is wrong with some parents?” Tuffnut demanded, “I mean… You’ve been ready to murder me for the last year, but you  _ never  _ would have, just, just ugh…”

“Some parents mistake destruction for preparation,” Grimmel told him when he realized the Loki devotee either couldn’t or wouldn’t say more on the topic.

“Some parents are twisted as fuck,” The twin growled marching over toward the Heathen tribe without further explanation.

“Should we involve ourselves?” Grimmnut asked his twin.

Grimmel glanced over at Astrid and Hiccup, where the girl was laughing so hard she couldn’t breathe, while his son pointed to the kitchen stairs, “You know, earlier today, I thought my spouses had gone easy on that girl because she was attractive.”

That made the other Thorston burst with laughter, “I’m surprised Thor didn’t strike you dead where you stood.”

The Commander hummed, “I’m not fond of making the same mistake twice. Let’s wait to see if she doesn’t bounce back.”

“In that case, I owe my daughter a dance. Brother.”

Grimmel nodded and took off for Spitelout and Valka on the other side of the room. He glanced around for Stoick and Gobber and wasn’t surprised when the two were making rounds, welcoming allies and checking on people’s travels. Technically it should have been Valka’s place in the tribe as Chieftess, but the truth was that Gobber had the job for twenty years and, by and large, people would have been more disturbed by the change then they were with the breach of tradition.

In the crowd and bustle of the Great Hall, Tuffnut was able to slip into the seat right next to the Heathen King with no one the wiser. The blonde in question was bent over the table, head in his hands, trying to suffer through a headache that was encompassing him from the neck up. The Healer pulled one hand away and placed two flower buds in his palm, “Swallow those, don’t chew. Drink a mug of mead. You’ll be numb from the neck up for two days.”

Ragnar did as he was told without hesitation; he finished the mead without taking another breath. Astrid’s beating had been bad, it probably did the most damage, but his mother could still throw a hand back better than anyone else he knew. If this was an assassination attempt, hello Valhalla; he needed some relief.

“I won’t ever go into debt to you again, Thorston.”

Tuffnut snorted, “And what is your price, King Ragnar?”

That earned him a very confused look from the Heathen, “For?”

There was a hum but no real answer right away, “What do you think of your Aunt Estrid?”

“She’s not, according to my mother,” Ragnar confessed, “I was always told my uncle could have done better.”

“Why?”

“From what I’ve gathered she has gradually become more spiteful toward her daughters and my Uncle has demanded no change,” Ragnar confessed, “I know she was attacked in her youth but that’s not her daughters’ fault. My mother fears what she’ll do to Skjall, once Astrid is out of the house.”

“Maybe she should have been concerned sooner,” Tuffnut muttered, “And do the Hoffersons clean house well?”

The King’s head tilted, “According to my mother, Uncle Aaron’s a good person, but his refusal to clean house is how my grandfather, half-mad, thought he was able to refuse a King, his low born daughter’s hand in marriage when they were in love.”

That was a disappointing blow, Tuffnut had to admit. He did not want to hurt Astrid in any way, but she also had a baby sister stuck in that house whenever the General got married. She would never need to know anyway.

His grandmother swore life and death were a balance of equal measures.

Ragnar saw the war in his eyes, “You know… It appears my tribe arrived rather ill prepared for Berk’s wedding season in terms of gifts. Perhaps, Thorston, you’d rather have a more unorthodox gift anyway?”

Tuffnut watched as Hiccup was called over to his mother for drinks with the Wingmaidens, as Stoick and Gobber were drinking with Throk on the other side of the hall. Astrid, with Eret kicked back beside her lounging, was watching the Sergeant like a hawk, but it wasn’t with fear or trepidation; there still managed to be desire there, “I think there may be another wedding such a gift would be more appropriate for, but it’s accepted either way.”

As he walked away, Ragnar had no idea what that meant, but that seemed to be the general state of being around the High Priest from what Berkians described.

Bored with drinking, Stoick headed back to his family’s seats to take in the Great Hall. He had to admit, after that little show of the Heathens’ King, things had gone rather smoothly. On his way back, he decided it was high time he had the band play Hiccup’s favorite; he always did it once on special occasions anyway. Gobber saw where he was heading and rolled his eyes; he never should have taught Hiccup that stupid song.

Hiccup was excusing himself from his mother and the Wingmaidens’ drinking game when they sounded. Two large drums thrummed throughout the hall and then the first shout of, “When the hammer falls!” Rang out in the Great Hall.

The look on Hiccup’s face was so excited as he started singing along that Rangar did not think he could be blamed for going over to join in; the rest of the hall was doing the same vocally. Seeing the Heathen King going over to Hiccup, Eret and Dagur both joined them as well; one for purely jealous reasons and the other having the decency to bring Hiccup a drink. Snotlout abandoned the Head Table next, and then Fishlegs joined in. Soon all the young warriors in the hall had banned together to sing the song.

“When the hammer falls,

And it sounds through the halls,

When the hammer falls,

Freeing treasures from the walls,

When the hammer strikes,

And the kingdom comes to life,

When the hammer pounds, 

Like the thunder underground,

When the hammer falls,

When the hammer falls!”

Astrid watched them and had to admit it was charming. This is what Hiccup did, he was the one that brought everyone else together. She wasn’t surprised, nor did she look, when Tuffnut sat down behind her to listen to the rest of the song.

“When the hammer falls,

Back our enemy crawls

When the hammer quakes,

Orcish cowards’ bones will break,

When the hammer cracks,

And it beats their armies back,

When the hammer’s boom,

Sends the monsters to their doom,

When the hammer falls,

When the hammer falls!

When the hammer falls,

Then our victory calls,

When the hammer falls,

Songs of glory fill the halls,

When the hammer flies,

Mighty heroes now arise,

With the hammer’s sound,

Loud like thunder underground,

When the hammer falls,

When the hammer falls!”

“So, how are we feeling?” Tuffnut asked as cheers erupted from the Great Hall all around them.

She blinked, still staring at Hiccup, “I’m going to do it.”

“Yes!” He cheered, then thought, “Oh Gods, maybe we should have practiced.”

“I don’t need to practice, I’m a Viking,” She told him, taking off for the circle.

Tuffnut gave a loud cheer to encourage her. That drew Heather’s attention at the Head Table to what was happening. She reached for the returning Snotlout, who upon realizing what was happening slapped Fishlegs’ arm, and then the Ingerman waved for Ruffnut, who was at the Wingmaiden table discussing her adoption, or re-adoption, of Wingnut. Her attention alerted Valka, who signalled to Gobber and Stoick, while Grimmel was just paying attention.

By the time Astrid entered the small circle of flames, the roar of the Great Hall had become a low grumble, “Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third!”

His name echoed from the walls of the Great Hall, Dagur and Eret freezing on both sides of him. Turning to find most of the room already staring at him was shocking enough, but when he realized where Astrid was his heart almost escaped his chest. She was standing in the middle of the Conquest Circle. 

“Take your stance!” The Hofferson instructed a little smug in the face of his surprise.

Hiccup moved away from his shield brother and his lover, toward the circle and his wife… Or she was about to be, anyway. He stepped into the ring of fire and signalled Toothless to stay out when the Night Fury came closer, curious as he’d never seen his human inside the traditional circle before. Then he raised both arms wide in the traditional call for judgement.

“M’Lady?”

“If you would deny me as your wife this night,” Astrid declared before the gathered tribes, “Will you take up arms?”

He reached for Peacekeeper on his belt and tossed the hilt outside the circle. Usually discarded weapons were prizes for other Vikings, but luckily the only one to catch the sword was Toothless, who everyone backed away from real quick when he started growling at their approach and glowing blue. Hiccup smirked at that, raising an eyebrow at Astrid.

“Will you call for aid?”

Hiccup just waited on that one and his Dad did not disappoint.

“May the bastard that tries to aid him descend into Helheim slowly,” Stoick cried, banging his hand on the armrest of his Chief’s chair for emphasis, “And may I be the one to strike him dead!”

There was a round of cheers from the whole Hall.

Hiccup just snorted, “Well, that answers that question, doesn’t it?”

Astrid stepped up and yanked him forward by the hair, in no small part because her cousin had done it earlier, “Will you cry mercy?”

That was really just a turn of phrase, a chance for someone to make any claim of discontent and get out of the proposition. Hiccup grinned and glanced at his father before locking gazes with Astrid once more, “My father always taught me that the man bold enough to take tone with his wife, was bold enough to lose his tongue.”

There was a round of cheers from the Berkians, most who had heard Stoick say that at least a hundred times.

She pulled him down for the Conquering Kiss and then things really got crazy.

The roar from the Vikings shook the building and the dragons sensed that something magnanimous happened, so they roared as well. 

Stoick was out of his chair and waiting by the time they stepped out of the circle, Aaron just behind him. The Chief picked up his son and spun him around; Hiccup could feel his ribs cracking. Valka wrapped her arm around Astrid, while Skjall jumped onto her big sister with both arms.

After their families got to them, the team and their friends were next. Snotlout didn’t even seem to mind having to share his night, both he and Heather were so excited for the two. Grimmel was hugging his son when Stoick finally got to his new daughter in law and Astrid squealed as the Chief swung her around.

“There will be no living with him after this,” Grimmel told his son as he passed the boy off to Gobber.

“I get the feeling that’s only going to get progressively worse as we move through the season,” Hiccup told them. Toothless was pushed up against him demanding attention, so he gestured to Astrid, “Go harass Mommy. I’m talking to your grandparents.”

The best part was when Toothless did just that.

“Oh that won’t be far off now!” Gobber cried.

“Before anyone gets to that,” Tuffnut dismissed when Astrid looked uncomfortable, “Hiccup has a race to win me tomorrow!”

Fights and cheers broke out in equal measure as the party picked back up to full volume and everyone tried to hedge their gambling based on if they thought Tuffnut was serious or not. Seeing her upset and deciding that they had more than earned a break, Hiccup pointed to the exit the next time his father looked around from the cheers of congratulations. The Chief was so ecstatic he waved them out of the Great Hall with no fear of anarchy reigning down upon Berk.

Eret and Tuffnut pointed to the back of the Great Hall, signalling that they’d meet them outside. Hiccup didn’t blame them for not trying to fight their way to the main doors; the place hadn’t been this packed since… He couldn’t remember a time Berk had been this prominent, but thought maybe it had been before he was born, before the fleet left. 

“So what was that look for?” Hiccup asked her as they walked out into the cool night air and down the stone steps.

The Furies all took to the air, relieved to be out in the open after the congestion that was the Opening Feast and the spectacle the night had been. The Light Furies seemed even more anxious than their counterparts; Hiccup thought that had to do with Toothless being used to people after six years and Freyjid simply trusting her brother more than the other dragons. Stormfly took off with them and the lot wound up circling a large bonfire that had been started outside in the main fire pit.

“What look?” Astrid asked him. When all he did was raise an eyebrow at her, she sighed, “Tuff and I were talking earlier…”

“That Super Secret Dragon Pact meeting?” Hiccup guessed.

“Yes, we started talking about me marrying you tonight... and then after the First Marriage, we were talking again.”

“What happened?” The Sergeant took a seat on the low stone wall leading off the stairs.

Astrid took his extended hand and sat next to him on the wall, “I was telling him… My mother wasn’t a maiden when she married because she’d been attacked. When I was little, she wanted her daughters to know how dangerous men were, so she’d tell us stories.”

“What kind of stories?”

“Her favorite was the Lore of Jeyne Poole of Westeros.”

Suddenly the Tale of the Night Fury Killer and the Fallen Valkyrie didn’t sound so twisted to Hiccup’s ears. He hadn’t heard the story of Jeyne Poole told until he’d been a teenager and on a hunting trip with Dagur the Deranged. Pulling her hand up he placed a kiss on it, “Astrid, I would never hurt you.”

“Stupid fear to have, isn’t it?” Astrid scoffed, “I mean… I’ve been able to defend myself from men since I was ten. My dad never so much as left me alone with a stranger. I shouldn’t be afraid like this…”

“Hey, look at me, Astrid,” Once she complied he continued, “Your fear is not stupid. We don’t have to do anything until you’re ready.”

“You don’t feel disappointed after that display?”

“Astrid, you just demanded me as your husband in front of everyone. You couldn’t possibly make me feel disappointed right now… Except for maybe with your mother. That is just wrong.”

“Dad is worried about Skjall once I leave,” Astrid told him, “I… Hiccup, I can’t move out until the First Snowfall. I’ve got to figure out something.”

Hiccup nodded, knowing if his new wife was concerned then it must be really bad, “I won’t have the house until I take the knee anyway. Hey, I’ll help you. We won’t leave Skjall with her.”

“Tuffnut had an idea on how to get me more comfortable with marital intimacies...”

“I have no idea how to feel about that statement.”

She blushed, “He said maybe I could watch you with him and Eret. I know it’s different with men and women, but I thought it could help.”

Hiccup wanted to do more than blink at her but his brain stopped working at the conjured idea. Shaking his head, he couldn’t help but chuckle, “Well, why don’t you come with me and Tuff tomorrow night?”

The General startled, “I don’t want to ruin his wedding night.”

Something she said must have been hilarious because Hiccup laughed until tears were falling from his eyes, “Please, you should have seen Tuff when Eret and I finally became lovers. He’s never against putting on a show.”

“This doesn’t surprise me,” Astrid muttered, “I can only imagine why.”

They both laughed and then looked up when loud cheers drew their attention to Eret and Tuffnut as they descended with their dragons. The new Berkain jumped from his Rumblehorn and grabbed Astrid up from the wall, swinging her around, “You did it! You actually got married!”

“Congratulations!” Tuffnut said, as Eret passed Astrid to him and moved to hoist Hiccup into the larger Viking’s embrace. 

“Congratulations indeed, Sweetheart,” Aaron Hofferson shouted once more, as he carried Skjall down the stairs, “I knew you two had it in you!”

Running into her sister seemed to breathe a second wind into Skjall, who had been dozing on her father’s shoulder. She hopped down and ran over to Astrid, “Congra-lation, Sissy.”

“Thank you,” Astird picked her up and squeezed her in a tight hug, before handing the girl back to their father.

“This one is taking a trip to bed,” Aaron told his daughter, “But Gertrude wants your mother to stay, should you decide to go back inside...”

Hiccup’s General and wife wanted to roll her eyes, well aware of what her father wanted to know, “I’ll be back later. I’m staying with the family until the ceremony at First Snowfall.”

Aaron looked relieved and his daughter was sure there were multiple reasons for that.

As her father and sister moved away to the Hofferson house, the newest addition to the Haddock family looked back at the three Vikings sitting patiently on the stone wall, “So, what do we do now?”

Berk’s future Chief shrugged, “I guess the same thing us Dragon Riders always do. Who wants to go flying?!”

From the open doorway of the Great Hall, thrown wide to let cool air into the packed event, Ragnar watched the four Dragon Riders fly off toward the coast. He glanced over to his northernmost family moving toward their home, then back to his most loved cousin and her husband. Shaking off all his feelings of melancholy, he turned from the night sky with a whistle and, going back to deliver on his wedding present, sang, “My kinsmen and my brother, My shieldmate and my guide… May my arm always defend you, And your honor lift you high… You are true and destined prince and my sword is by your side...I will fight for you in glory 'till I die...”


	3. Chapter 3

Waking up didn’t feel like the world was topsy turvy as she expected. Skjall was flung across her like the entitled little sprawler the blonde menace was and Stormfly was trilling outside of her window excitedly; all the dragons seemed to know when racing season was starting. It didn’t feel like marriage was a large scary thing that had been done to her in the early light of still dawning. 

She prepared herself to wake up the little terror on race day but first went downstairs to get a drink. Upon realizing that her mother wasn’t in the house, probably already gone to gossip with Gertrude Jorgenson about all of the summer weddings from here on out, Astrid decided to just let her sister sleep. Throwing on her new armor and fixing her hair, the Dragon Rider was out the door to go and find Hiccup and the gang in the forge; Tuff and Ruff were going to be a real delight.

Greetings were immediate upon her departure from the house, although there were some double takes at seeing her come out of the Hofferson house. After a moment to process where she’d slept, both men and women seemed to smile broader at her and Hiccup waiting for their sanctioned wedding at the First Snowfall. She wished she could stomp out the small flame of pride that bloomed at their approval, but Tuff had insisted for years that spouses’ differences were their strengths, ever since the two of them defended the Edge together.

It was a lesson she’d been slow to learn but came to appreciate as they got out of their teen years.

Moving down by the docks, Astrid took in the flurry of activity that had already started bustling down by the vast number of visiting ships. The docked vessels looked like a gracious plenty now, with most Berkians on the back of dragons rather than sailing, but she was well aware of how quickly that would change. Grimmel the Grisly was about to redock Berk’s fleet! 

Five hundred ships were a week away from docking and the small village that they’d grown up in would once again be the sprawling stronghold that led Vikings into war against dragons, in the South and at home.

The charge in the air was like lightning, as if Thor himself was walking among them.

And as the start of the season rekicked all of the elders out of their winter haze, she wasn’t surprised to see that their resident Odin had reclaimed his place at the helm of it all, as Stoick the Vast made sure Berk was ready for a population surge. She knew the Chief wouldn’t shove Berk from overjoyed and into an overpopulation nightmare. The scarlet Viking, although silver was starting to win out, was giving orders about incoming food stores, while Astrid was certain that Gobber was running interference on up the path from the forge, as he’d done for twenty years.

“Morning, Chief!”

He turned toward her and Astrid wouldn’t lie, having all that attention directed at her was still the greatest part of her day. Everyone had worshipped the Chief of Berk for years, especially all the kids who knew him like a second father. When she’d been young and always sworn to marry a man just like Berk’s leader, the Dragon Rider couldn’t have known how spot on the fulfilled promise would be.

“There’s my favorite daughter in law!”

Astrid giggled, even as he spun her around in an embrace, “Careful, Chief. Hiccup could take a second wife before the end of this.”

“Three spouses in the course of a season,” The large Viking rolled his eyes, “I told him that stupid story too often. He took it as a challenge.”

The mighty Hofferson laughed. Everyone knew that Stoick had married Grimmel the Grisly in the Conquest Circle, right after he and Valka opened marriage season with the First Marriage. Chief Haddock marrying the Fallen Valkyrie and the Night Fury Killer. It was the story that always got told to kids every year behind Stoick’s back, but no one wanted to bring up to his face for social propriety after the tragedy that befell the family. Still, every year outside the Conquest Circle, someone, usually Spitelout, got roped into telling it to the younger kids. 

Now, Astrid couldn’t believe the world they were standing on the precipice of. She didn’t know what look of wonder, what look of curiosity and admiration crossed her face, but Stoick snorted. 

“You were always the good one,” He looked out on the docks for a moment before returning his attention to this slip of a Viking maiden who had chosen to be part of his son’s story, “You know, I only ever told that story to one other person in the last twenty years.”

That was confusing for Astrid. Everyone knew that story. Everyone.

“Hiccup’s the oldest of your generation, but you were one of the youngest born that winter. You were more tot than child,” Stock scrutinized her for a moment, “You don’t remember Grimmel coming back.”

“With the fleet?” Astrid clarified, “When Hiccup was three? Not a clue.”

“We’d found out he was coming with the first ships to get through the ice on the day of the First Marriage,” Stoick explained gazing out at the water thoughtfully, “Hiccup had turned three at the start of one of the hardest winters we’d faced since Valka was taken. I almost hadn’t been here and it would have been disastrous if not for… Anyway, the first time that story was ever told, I was standing not ten feet away and Gothi Thorston told it while lighting the Conquest Circle.”

Gothi speaking was its own legend to the children of Berk younger than her.

Stoick smiled, it was wistful Astrid placed after a moment's consideration, “I umm… I scoffed at those ridiculous names but when Hiccup ran over, demanding if it was true… I got suckered into telling it to him every night. Then the next year, after Gothi lost her voice, she passed the telling onto Spitelout.”

Astrid was happy that Fishlegs was fitting back into his role as teacher for the kids, and that Hiccup had passed the telling onto his best friend. The Ingerman tried to enjoy the Edge, and had grown as much as the rest of them, but his heart had always been here on Berk. It had apparently been enough of a homecoming to get Ruffnut’s attention.

“I can’t believe Grimmel the Grisly is back on Berk. The previous Hiccup of Berk!”

“You say it like his name,” Stoick noted the distinction, “But it predates my son’s birth, believe it or not.”

That made the small blonde blush, “Of course it does. Sorry, Chief.”

“Don’t apologize, it’s just a change of time,” Stoick told her. He regarded his daughter in law, “Where were you seven years ago, Astrid?”

“Me?... I guess I was... “ It wasn’t a question she’d been expecting today. Thinking back she remembered, “I was hanging off of Ragnar Lothbrok’s arm, right before joining the fire brigade, and he was teaching me to use all sorts of weapons.”

“Hmm… Ragnar Lothbrok,” Stoick hadn’t taken the chance to really ponder the young man he’d never seen before the Heathen King’s little display the day before, “The two of you were close as well?”

Astrid snorted at that, “Yes, he was with me when he wasn’t with… Hiccup, I suppose.”

“What do you think of him?”

“He’s brash, and crude, and resilient as a dragon,” The Dragon Rider laughed, “He’s everything a Heathen King is supposed to exude; boldly ruthless and commanding… But all he’s ever wanted is a people, or a person, I don’t think he cared much for the specifics.”

Stoick wasn’t sure what that meant in reference to a king and it showed.

The smaller Viking laughed, “Heathens don’t inherit by birthright. They inherit by trial of combat when the King dies. Many tried to beat Ragnar but couldn’t. He was the first person to hold the title for three generations of kings from the same bloodline.”

That was impressive, Stoick had to admit.

“With twelve brothers, no sisters, and a higher sense of competition among the Heathens… All Ragnar ever wanted was someone to latch onto,” Astrid shrugged, “I guess that’s where Hiccup and I came in at fourteen. I was the little sister he’d always wanted and Hiccup was the forbidden love interest. My uncle hadn’t died and Ragnar was far from the worries of ruling back then.”

“Stories of your Aunt Alfhild and her husband must have been rampant as well,” Stoick commented, knowing how Hiccup fell for a good love story. 

“A lowborn woman being claimed in Marriage by Conquest by the King of the Heathens?” She offered a reserved, “We’d heard of it.”

That made Stoick laugh. He was beginning to see where his son and the Heathen’s connection might have come from. It answered some of the questions he’d had about why the man was moping about the docks since before dawn; if there was one thing the Hooligan tribe chief could recognize, it was heartbreak, “I think he may be taking Hiccup’s marriage status harder than most would expect. Check on him?”

“Umm… Of course, Chief,” Astrid knew it wasn’t really a question when he just jabbed a thumb toward the Heathen ships.

All her life the endless rows of docks that surrounded Berk had seemed like overkill. Now, the main strip of piers was already swarming with activity from their guests and she couldn’t imagine how crowded their little village was about to become with five hundred ships. In the light of dawn on her way here, she’d seen vast tents going up in fields, and suddenly the numbers and planning that Stoick was doing didn’t seem like overkill.

Spotting Ragnar’s ship still wasn’t a challenge. The brightly painted red and black dragon on the ship’s front reminded her of a black and red Titan wing Monstrous Nightmare that they’d faced out on the Edge. There was a dragon that she could see her cousin riding.

Tracking him wasn’t difficult either, as all she had to do was follow the mournful rendition of “Loch Lomond” all the way down the planks to the stern of the Dragon’s Fury. When she found him, the King of the Heathens was sitting atop a barrel cleaning his favorite axe and looked absolutely terrible. Clearly he hadn’t slept or washed; maybe his feelings were deeper than she’d thought in her ire.

By the time he realized she was there, Astrid had already made up her mind, even as he jumped to his feet, “Astrid! Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Astrid acknowledged, “You’re coming with me.”

When his cousin grabbed him by the arm and started dragging him inland, Ragnar realized she didn’t know yet. Taking a deep breath, he tried to relax, “You’re up early after a long night.”

Even as they passed through throngs of people, Astrid’s voice was low as she demanded, “And that bothers you?”

Startled, the king laughed, “I’m happy for you, little sister.”

“But you still want Hiccup?”

He pondered that for a moment, contemplative of her reaction now that she wasn’t looking to send him on his final ship, “I’ll always want Hiccup. It’s not something that just stops, but he didn’t want me. Love is not so fickle as in rejection to wane.”

“My father always says that,” The Dragon Rider groaned. 

“I remember.”

The sound of her rider’s distress summoned Stormfly from the skies over the dock and Astrid was suddenly struck that they didn’t need to walk, “Come on!”

The Heathen snorted, “No, thank you. I had my fill yesterday, I’ll leave the dragon riding to you Berkians.”

“It’s different when you’re not a toy!” Astrid encouraged him, extending a hand to help haul him up on her Deadly Natter, “Unless you’re scared?”

“I’m a Heathen,” Ragnar didn’t hesitate to stand a little straighter as the dragon sniffed at his torso, breathing him in, and the Heathen motto rolled off his tongue effortlessly, “We do not cry mercy.”

“I know,” Astrid acknowledged as he swung himself up behind her, dutifully ignoring her hand. Stormfly took off and as they evened out in the air above Berk, the General told him, “She needs a good fly before the race anyway.”

Ragnar didn’t have the words. He’d seen the world from the air the day before, clutching wildly at Stormfly’s talons and praying to the gods that she wouldn’t drop him. Now, seeing it without the adrenaline, it was like seeing the sea during a storm, Ran in all her glory. Frigga laid bare before him and she was splendid.

Finally he looked back at his cousin, who had turned on the reptile to stare at him, “What do you want, Astrid?”

“Do you only want Hiccup if he leaves with you? Leaves his life behind?”

“Of course not!” Ragnar defended, “Look, seven years ago everything was different. Everyone already knew that of Dad’s kids, I had the best chance of bringing stability to the tribe, even if I was his unlucky thirteenth child, and Hiccup was…”

“The worst Viking that Berk had ever seen?”

“May you all feel shame as you even say it,” The king hissed and Stormfly gave a small growl sensing his irritation. He chuckled a little at the easy empathy that such a creature exhibited, “He was so incredible. The things he could make, the way he saw the world, and you all hated him for it.”

“He felt that way,” Astrid admitted, “But Ruff and I weren’t allowed to do anything with the guys until we joined the fire brigade the winter, after you visited. By the time Toothless came into Hiccup’s life that summer…”

"Toothless, Toothless, Toothless,” Ragnar said it like a curse, surprising her, “It’s always about the Night Fury.”

Astrid laughed, studying his perspective since arriving on Berk and getting the full story from Northerners who had lived through Hiccup’s…  _ emergence  _ into leadership, “Things were already about to change with Dragon Training, despite what everyone likes to think his greatness didn’t come from the dragon. Even if he hadn’t shot down Toothless, Hiccup was going to change the way we fought the war with dragons no matter what.”

“You saw what I did then,” Ragnar acknowledged.

“He came across a Night Fury, the species that his Ergi hunted to near extinction, a glory that would have also turned him into the Pride of Berk,” Astrid emphasized that point, “And he still chose the way of the Hammer! That does not come from a dragon, that is a dragon.”

“The Dragon King,” Ragnar shook his head as he thought about the legacy Hiccup Haddock would leave behind. He stared at his cousin, who he’d always regarded as the little sister of his dreams, “I’m glad that it’s you.”

Astrid considered that, “You know, the Heathen army is meant to be nomadic and hasn’t relocated during your reign. Moving North would proclaim your allegiance.”

Despite the Heathen army battling to dismantle the Dragon Hunters in the southern parts of the North, it had all been covert. Everything Stoick and Grimmel did was kept secret when walking among Vikings who would never kneel, while Toothless became a marker for Hiccup entering the warfront. From a strategic standpoint, the Heathen army relocating within spitting distance of Berk would mean that Hiccup had the largest land, sea, and air presence that the North ever knew as he took his crown.

“I have never wanted to be a political match for Hiccup,” Ragnar hissed.

This was where Astrid knew she struggled and longed for Tuffnut. Feelings were complicated and she didn’t know how to address that for a moment, before finally she laughed, “I don’t think a lack of spark between the two of you is an issue… Actually, if you’re just going to be a baby over it, I don’t get why you kissed him anyway. Was that supposed to be a genuine bid for his affection?”

“No,” Ragnar admitted, “I just wanted you to get it over with. He rejected me seven years ago, I’ve dealt with it.”

That caught her attention, “Ragnar, from what Hiccup said last night, that was a rush of adrenaline and damage control to make sure Stoick didn’t find out. I don’t think it was meant as a rejection of interest, he just wasn’t going to abandon his people.”

“They didn’t deserve him!” The Heathen hissed, “He couldn’t get a word in to Berk’s leadership and got scorned for trying.”

Astrid had to admit that they were getting into a time period she didn’t like, because she was unfamiliar with Hiccup before Dragon Training. Still, she had what Tuffnut and Hiccup had confessed to her and Eret when they all went flying the previous night, “Was Tuff undeserving? He’s followed Hiccup around blindly since they were five; if he wasn’t with his twin he was with Hiccup. He put his own goals on Berk on hold to follow Hiccup to Dragon’s Edge and was destroyed when you stole Hiccup’s first kiss! Is that undeserving?”

Ragnar flinched at that. The price of his debt being wiped clean with Thorston had been Astrid’s ignorance to the Medicine Man’s involvement in the incident’s instigation. Wouldn’t have been much of an argument anyway, given that it more than proved her point and made him realize Hiccup’s soon to be husband was more interesting that the king had ever given Tuffnut credit for.

“And what about Gobber? He has treated Hiccup like his own flesh and blood his entire life! Hiccup leaving would have destroyed him. Destroyed him into a million pieces,” Astrid informed the other blonde ferociously, “Hiccup is just like Stoick! He’s dramatic in his heroics, he gets tunnel vision on the ultimate goal, his stubbornness requires intensive management, and Gobber struggling to do that with him and the Chief all day every day is not undeserving!”

She sighed, frustrated, and pointed down toward the village that was just bursting to life with the many Berkians and their visitors rising, “They love him. They would fight and die on his orders, and support him through any mistake, dragons or no. Are you telling me that is undeserving?”

“No,” Ragnar shuddered, “You know, that’s the scary part. Ever since yesterday, I’ve felt like the villain of his story.”

That made the anger swirling through the Dragon Rider dissipate slightly. Studying her cousin, she asked him, “What does that even mean?”

“It means I’m the one that would have cost him all of this!” He gestured to the island below, then the dragon they were riding, “I’m nothing but a mistake from his past. The one that could have torn down the King’s reign before it even began.”

“You don’t think you would have been enough?” Then she remembered his comment about Hiccup having already rejected him, “You don’t think you are enough.”

That earned a snort as the king’s full attention settled on her once more, “I was found to be the lesser Hofferson, who can blame him.”

The next words from her mouth spilled forward without her complete consent. It was beyond Astrid, to see Ragnar so upset about this. Especially after the way Hiccup seemed to float on air as he talked about that summer; she’d seen him less high on Toothless for Thor’s sake. Even Tuff and Eret seemed to have a new appreciation for her cousin after hearing about him from the Sergeant’s perspective last night, “Hiccup was going to come south and find you with Toothless.”

She said it so fast, it took Ragnar a moment to process what the small blonde had spouted, “So? He’s been riding that Night Fury south for years, why should coming to visit me matter?”

“No,” Astrid dismissed exasperated, “Before Stoick found out about Toothless, Hiccup was going to leave Berk. He was going to go south to be with you, that next summer after you left.”

This was new information to Ragnar, “Why didn’t he?”

“I found him and Toothless before he could leave.”

“You treacherous snake!”

“I didn’t even know where he was going,” She dismissed, “I never thought he would leave! And… Anyway, I’m telling you now and I only found out yesterday! Life tends that way in vicinity to Hiccup Haddock.”

Ragnar didn’t seem to know what to do with the information now that he had it. The Heathen just sat, staring at the dragon beneath him. Hiccup had been planning to bring this entire operation, his dragon, to a tribe located in the southernmost part of the north. It would have been a blatant challenge to the War Lords and would have set a bloody path to where Hiccup currently was, but it could have been done. Would he have followed Hiccup on the back of a Night Fury?

Without hesitation.

“So, you know,” Astrid shrugged, “If you wanted to pursue Hiccup in an official capacity, I could talk to Tuff and Eret.”

His icy blue gaze landed on her once more, “I don’t think it’s going to much matter, if Hiccup doesn’t want to… I’ve been chasing him since we were teenagers, Astrid.”

“For all that Hiccup is amazing, sometimes you have to let him catch up. He’s always been unclear about his place in relationships, torn between protector and protected. Grand gestures don’t matter as much as simple instruction,” She admitted when thinking back on their relationship.

Hiccup performed in a grandiose way because he was raised by Stoick the Vast and took after his father more every day. Like the Chief, he often forgot to look for the heart behind the action because the first Dragon Rider never lacked in that department, just like his father before him. After trying to mimic her betrothed for a while, like their first kiss after the Battle of the Red Death, Astrid had finally figured out that Hiccup didn’t need those in a romantic relationship and often did better with direct communication. All the thoughts running around his head sometimes conflated too much and that’s when their relationship worked best.

But, there had also been something that Hiccup seemed to be missing in his love life. That’s what had first worried her on the Edge, when she’d questioned their relationship. The passion that existed between Dagur and Mala had seemed to find her lacking in some way. It had taken Tuff explaining that the love Hiccup felt for her, versus the love Hiccup felt for him, versus the love Dargur felt for Mala could never be compared. He had told her that Frigga lit the spark between two people differently every time and that each was as unique as dragon fire.

That’s why her reaction the previous day hadn’t really been jealousy of the kiss, but rather anger over the disrespect. Ragnar was wild and mischievous in a darker way than Ruff and Tuff, but she’d never expected him to do that to her. Looking back on it, she realized that Hiccup hadn’t even brought it up during the Welcoming Feast, seeming to know instinctively when she found no fault with him. Her husband understood her that way.

Still, she found the spark between Ragnar and Hiccup to be too unique to ignore, “Let me talk to him.”

The Heathen King’s eyes went wide as he stared at her, “You would do that?”

“Of course, you’re my big brother!”

From there she urged Stormfly into doing tricks, showing her cousin what the Deadly Nadder could really do. The dragon seemed to know that the two humans were close and Astrid could acknowledge that now. With the previous day put into perspective, suddenly the big brother she’d always wanted and finally gotten was back on Berk, and not just a disrespectful jackal looking for a fight.

Ragnar couldn’t believe what Astrid wanted to do. He couldn’t let her. The king kept trying to tell her, to interrupt their flying, but the Hofferson heir wouldn’t listen.

When the time finally came to let Stormfly rest until the race, Astrid had her set them down near the armory. All the team’s dragons were outside and she offered to let Ragnar just come for the conversation. 

He seemed reluctant, saying, “There is something I have to tell y…”

“Astrid!”

When a young member of the Hofferson clan came running over saying her father wanted her and Ragnar to come to his house, the king stopped. Ragnar offered to see what was going on, since he couldn’t just saddle into such a discussion with her, declining her invitation. And while she loved him like a big brother that was probably for the best.

Tuffnut was going to be dramatic enough, this coming up on his wedding day.

On her way in, Astrid spotted Snotlout and Fishlegs, along with Heather and Ruff, when they whistled for their dragons. At the top of Berk’s housing they attached several crates to the small band of dragons, so she assumed they were moving the Jorgenson’s parents from the top of the hill to the bottom. A morbid part of her wondered if Stoick had been in such a good mood that morning because Spitelout was going first. The Chief would have two months of blessed peace before he’d be shipped down with his rival. 

Walking into the forge, she wasn’t surprised to see Eret assisting Gobber, while he and Hiccup also packed up the ‘apprentice’s’ side projects to move to his new armory in the Great Hall. The blacksmith in question was bickering with his son about who would replace Eret as an apprentice. Hiccup was not winning, because apparently Gobber’s husband was still Chief.

She didn’t have time to waste on the rest as her attention settled on Tuff, who was reading a book with his feet kicked up on Hiccup’s desk instead of packing, as he left the job to her…  _ husband _ . Moving swiftly to tower over him, not wanting to lose her nerve, Astrid put forth her motion, “I think we should bring Ragnar into the Super Secret Dragon Pact.”

Tuffnut turned a page, “Fine.”

“I know it’s a lot to ask. It’s your wedding day and the two of you hate each other, but I really think…” Then what he’d said registered, “Wait, what?”

“Fine, he’s been moping around since last night and it’s depressing,” Tuff shrugged, “If he wants in that much, admit him.”

“I don’t care that Kristoff Mikaelson was one of the best kids in class,” Gobber’s voice raised, “He’s a little hellion and I’m not dealing with him.”

“You have vetoed every eligible kid,” Hiccup groaned, “Not everyone is ready to start when they’re three, Gobber.”

“I took on Eret!”

“Yeah, for a year while you lazed around with Grump and Dad whittled!” The Sergeant yelled back, “Give me a name then! Anybody!”

“You are fine with this?” Astrid demanded, shocked; she’d prepared herself for the worst from Berk’s eccentric. Of course, he always said eccentricities only worked so long as they didn’t become habits.

The Loki devotee shrugged, “Sure, we’re fine now. Why not?”

“How should we do it?” Astrid surged forward then, thanking Loki for a show of benevolence, unexpected as it was, “Everything is still in an uproar from yesterday.”

“And that shouldn’t end today,” Tuff told her, “Best way is in the Conquest Circle tonight. There is already talk of Eret’s marriage to him being a political show, but it will be mitigated with Uncle Grimmel being here and the full fleet crossing Bear Island today. Hiccup should do it, as a recognition of what this would mean for his reign, since we can’t swing a formal wedding spot on this short notice, and it being on his wedding day to a Berkian will help.”

She wasn’t sure what keywords tipped him off, but Hiccup stopped mid shout at Gobber and turned on them along with Eret, “You want me to what? And who?”

Before the two of them could turn to face him and explain, Stoick walked in the forge’s back entrance with Ragnar and Aaron Hofferson. 

Astrid turned and saw on their faces that this wasn’t a social call before the First Race. Her cousin was staring at the ground and wouldn’t meet her eyes, and her father’s eyes were red as he looked ready to fall apart. Needing someone to say something, her eyes sought out the Chief. 

Stoick never hated the role more than he did at this moment, “Astrid, sweetheart, there has been an accident.”

“Skjall?”

“No!” Her father hurried to say, although a couple of tears slipped past his eyes.

“Your mother had an accident last night,” Stoick told her when it was clear Aaron couldn’t, “She slipped off a dock and drowned.”

Gasping, her hand flew to her mouth, and then Hiccup was there at her side with an arm around Astrid’s shoulders. After just a moment, the General let herself be pulled into his chest and hid her face in his neck. She’d never admit that her decision to hide had more to do with her lack of tears than their presence.

Hiccup demanded, “Give us the room?”

“Of course, son,” Stoick started moving everyone out. Sharing another look with his boy, the Chief raised an eyebrow at him, wanting to know if he should postpone the race and wedding immediately. Getting a raised hand behind Astrid’s back, he knew to wait.

Once the room was cleared out she stood to face him, “Did you?”

“No, I swear, Astrid,” Hiccup assured her, “We’ve tried the secrets thing before and it did not end well. I swear to Thor Almighty, I did not.”

She nodded and then thought about it for a few moments, “She’s gone. She’s gone… What do I do now?”

“Join my father in your own personal Valhalla for two months?”

A dark cross between a gasp and laugh escaped her as she processed the shock of the news, “Spitelout got moved to the bottom of the hill?”

“Spitelout got moved to the bottom of the hill!” Hiccup mimicked perfectly, “I went up to the house after Eret and I woke up; found him spinning my mother around and whistling ‘For the Dancing and the Dreaming’. Should have been called Stoick the Petty.”

“How are you feeling about him leaving?”

“I don’t think this is how this conversation is supposed to go!” Hiccup seemed to take offense to her checking on him as he perched on his desk.

Shrugging Astrid moved to sit down in the chair Tuff had vacated, “You know I’m not upset. Even before I told you how bad it has... Had gotten… There was no love lost there; that is not news.”

Hiccup hummed, “But she’s still your mother.”

The blonde maiden laughed darkly, “The reason Berk was outraged at what your mother did is because you would have been better off with her here. For the opposite reason, Berk will go through the motions of mourning for my mother while thanking Odin for this death with much more joy than sorrow.”

“I’m sorry, Astrid.”

“I’m really okay, Hiccup. Relieved, actually,” She looked up at him and the always genuine amount of sheer emotion that bled through his green eyes, “So you, Spitelout leaving?”

“Why wouldn’t it be fine? He’s moving down the hill, not to Valhalla,” Hiccup dismissed, picking up something with which to tinker like he always did.

“Maybe because you spent as much time in that house with him and Snotlout, as you did in your Dad’s house?” Astrid pointed out, making a gesture toward the top of the hill from inside the forge, “That was the only time I used to ever see you besides the Great Hall. For fourteen years, I watched you come storming out your back door and walk down the hill to the Jorgensons' back door to walk in like you owned the place.”

Hiccup snorted, because that was a little too accurate a description of his life before puberty, “What’s your point, Astrid?”

“I mean, my gods, it was reliable like the sun. You’d come out, marching down to the Jorgensons',” Astrid exclaimed, “Then your Dad would come out the front door and, depending on the time of day, go marching to either the forge or Great Hall.”

“If this has to be about me, wrap it up,” Hiccup begged.

“You had what I would have killed for,” Astrid pointed out, “Parents who would do anything for you.”

The Sergeant kept his mouth shut because his wife loved her father, unlike her mother, but he’d never thought Aaron Hofferson’s weak will made him a prize of a parent. Instead, he kept his commentary mostly about himself, “Fathers who would do anything for me.”

“You think your mother never came back?” Astrid hissed, standing to tower over him as he remained on the desk, “You think she just didn’t care?”

As her husband glared at his tinker toy, Astrid squared her shoulders above him, “How long do you really think it took Valka to learn to ride on Cloudjumper? A couple of months, maybe? She didn’t even have a prosthetic tail to forge and work with.”

That earned her an eye roll.

“She came back to hearing women say that maybe you were safer with her gone, and better off with Spitelout with Stoick gone off the deep end!” The Hofferson watched as the wording choice signalled to him that this wasn’t something she was exaggerating on. This was something his mother hadn’t ever told him, “She…Both of your parents... Hiccup, if she’d come flying back in on a dragon, back then, and with your Dad gone… I am terrified that one day I’m going to have failed my children in the worst ways a mother can, because my mother did. Your mother lived that, and so did your Dad, apparently.”

Hiccup sighed in acknowledgment of that, letting the words sink in. He had no real memory of his father being gone. Thinking back, his first memory was Spitelout preparing him to move back in with the Chief; he’d been terrified. But, the Jorgenson patriarch had sworn that their door was never closed to him and that Hiccup was a Haddock who belonged with his clan.

Astrid admonished, “And your parents have lived very different lives as they did everything in their power to make sure they never failed you again. You can have complicated feelings about the Legend of the Night Fury Killer and the Fallen Valkyrie not being what we imagined for fourteen years, but please don’t conflate that with your mother being a bad person. Please don’t do that to me, not today.”

“You win,” Hiccup admitted, then thought about it harder. He used to pray for a solid parental identity, thinking it would give him all of life’s answers. No matter what path any of his parents could have taken, as long as he was the same person when tragedy hit their family, the fall out was going to be a struggle. Loss would always have come with love; it was part of the deal, “You always win.”

Especially when he knew that helping him with his issues was really just the way Astrid dealt with hers, “We can postpone the race, Astrid. The wedding doesn’t have to be tod…”

“Did you hear that?” Astrid interrupted him, “Somewhere in the village your uncle just pulled a weapon.”

The Sergeant laughed, “Okay, it would be in our best interests to marry today, but Tuff would put it off for you.”

“I’m fine, Hiccup,” She stressed, “I’ll just sit out the race today, look sad but represent the Hoffersons while Dad makes the arrangements, and after we say goodbye at sunset, we’ll get you married. I just need one thing.”

“Anything,” He promised.

That made this rather simple then, “After you marry Tuffnut, I need you to marry Ragnar in the Conquest Circle.”

That earned a groan from him, as Hiccup pushed off the desk, “Astrid, people would lose their minds.”

“A little big headedness isn’t a tragedy given all the work that’s going to be integrating the fleet and Heathen army into Berk,” The General reminded him, “Good Gods, Hiccup, you’re about to have the largest land, sea, and airborne forces imaginable.”

“Astrid, I can’t. We would be a disaster of fire and blood!”

She snorted at that, “You are not the Targaryens, burning people alive; don’t be dramatic. The other guys should be here…”

The door burst open again, “I thought you’d never ask!”

Tuffnut and Eret re-entered the forge, obviously having not made it past the door. Hiccup spotted his father out in the public part of the armory with Aaron and his other parents, so he decided if they were going to have this conversation, and the other issues were already decided, “I’m going to talk to Dad. I’ll be right back.”

He left the door cracked so no one would try to rush in, but made quick work of huddling with his parents, as Spitelout had Aaron in a tight embrace. Keeping his voice low, Hiccup didn’t offer any preamble when Toothless and Stormfly barged their way in, just waving them toward Astrid, “Alright, nothing is being put off. Astrid does not want all the attention on her today, so the First Race will be a nice distraction. She does want to sit with our family, can she just take my seat?”

“Of course,” Stoick reminded him, “She’s your wife.”

“Skjall will probably be with her,” Hiccup nodded through the reminder, fighting to keep a grin off his face. Despite the twist of the day that neither of them were expecting, the Sergeant still wasn’t used to the address; Astrid married him.

Gobber glanced to the small girl who had flung herself at Spitelout when her father let go, “I’ll take her as an apprentice.”

“Done,” Hiccup agreed, relieved by the offer. Aaron looked like a man about to lose his mind. Crazy as Estrid might have been, no one would deny that her husband’s love had been genuine. The first dragon rider would happily surround his little sister in law with Haddocks to give her some stability right now, “I’ll be at the race, but we need a little more time.”

“Absolutely, I’ll get things into motion,” Stoick told him, nodding for Spitelout to meet him outside. 

Grimmel and Valka moved to get a final word in with Hiccup as their husbands and Spitelout moved off for the rest of the council outside. His Ergi demanded, “How is she?”

Hiccup had to admit that Astrid and his mother had become very close, so he was certain the woman wouldn’t be surprised, and his Ergi had proved hard to get ahead of, unlike everyone else, in the last day despite all of his stunts with the Furies, and Ragnar, and him getting married. He felt no need to lie once Gothi led Aaron away to begin plans for that evening and it was just the three of them, “She’s fine. There’s no love lost there, but the people she can tell her real feelings to include our family and the future hubbies.”

“Well, that will make Tuffnut feel better,” Grimmel sighed, but when his son looked inquisitive, the Commander just waved him off toward the back room once more, “Let him catch you up.”

“We’ll manage everyone,” Valka encouraged, “Go be with her.”

By the time Hiccup got back to the room and shut the door, Astrid was cuddling with Stormfly’s large head, although her gaze was locked on Tuffnut, “You did this?!”

Her tone was surprised but not angry, Hiccup noted. He focused on his betrothed and realized what the Thorston must have confessed.

As Tuff moved to answer, his voice laced with… Not regret, but certainly an appropriate amount of shame for someone who had taken a life, “Yes, after you told me how scared you were for Skjall... Astrid, I didn’t want to risk your marriage giving her the chance to hurt either of you. Someone made the offer as a wedding present and I said yes.”

There would have been a time when Astrid couldn’t have appreciated thinking of Hiccup’s other spouses as her own. Taking one husband was a scary enough thought. Now, she could see how much Tuffnut had risked, not only with the action he’d taken, but also with telling her the truth. Moving forward, she pulled him into a tight embrace, “Thank you, Tuff.”

Realizing that she wasn’t mad at him, Loki’s High Priest hugged her closer. He’d been prepared for her anger, not her gratitude, as he released a breath that he hadn’t realized was stuck in his chest, “You’re welcome.”

Pulling away, Astrid finally had to wipe a tear from her eye, “Can I ask who?”

“You can and normally I would tell you without hesitation,” The other blonde assured her, “But they are really upset. I can already tell they’re going to end up coming to you themselves, so just… Please wait. You’ll know soon enough. It’s really not my place.”

A serious Tuffnut Thorston was never something to take lightly, so Astrid nodded her assent. He’d never been wrong when he asked, verbally or not, for her faith in him. She’d wait until someone brought it up to her.

“Speaking of upcoming events of the day, however,” Tuff redirected the conversation, “We have a new motion sponsoring initiation into the Super Secret Dragon Pact, I do believe.”

“I still have no idea what that is,” Hiccup told them, picking up his new and updated version of his shield and crossbow made from dragon metal. It was almost done and he wanted to show it off to his Ergi Grimmel.

Tuffnut shrugged, “You recently married in. It’s a club I started when I was four, of individuals who swore to marry Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third one day.”

As the Sergeant processed what his lover had just admitted to, Astrid busted out laughing at Hiccup’s confused and elated face. The General divulged, “I joined at fifteen; Tuff initiated me before you woke up after the Battle of the Red Death.”

Eret smiled proudly when Hiccup raised an eyebrow in his direction, “I was recruited by Astrid at the heart of winter, after we started spending too much time together in the forge. I was informed in a dark, low lit space with no windows, that it was in or out, and that there was no turning back.”

When the two blondes locked their attention on him, Hiccup turned back to his dark lover, “Side with me on this, please! It would be a disaster! You saw how insane we get together!”

“Gloriously attractive warriors with Frigga not just lighting a spark but throwing wood straight from Idunn’s bark between you?” Eret asked pointedly. He snorted looking over at Astrid and Tuffnut, “Why wasn’t this just already established?”

The Thorston shrugged, “Ragnar and I had an unresolved theft between us. I wouldn’t have allowed it. We’re fine now.”

“Whatever happened with that anyway?” Hiccup demanded, trying desperately to find some way out of this. He’d just come to the conclusion that leaving with Ragnar would have ended in disaster and now all of his spouses were trying to add another marriage to his docket. His father was already giving him a hard time for fitting three spouses into one season; if he added a fourth, he’d be throwing himself off Toothless mid flight within the next month. No flight suit.

All the times he’d prayed to be remembered for taking something after Stoick the Vast?  _ Anything!  _ He’d been a fool! A foolish boy with foolish dreams, and here it was, his own personal living nightmare. 

Because, Thor Almighty, being married to Ragnar had been part of every secret fantasy of freedom and flying that he’d had the last six years. Relationships were nothing but misery; he had to keep reminding himself of that. Necessary but brutal on the heart. What was the matter with him?

“He took the beating of a lifetime from Astrid,” Eret supplied with a laugh before Tuff had to think of something to say besides he paid his debt and the smaller man was grateful.

The last thing he needed was to admit that Estrid’s madness being discovered was only because he wanted to jolt Astrid out of her nerves. Even if Ragnar told her about whatever happened with the Hofferson’s mother, they’d made a deal and Tuff was certain that the Heathen wouldn’t reveal their conversation on the deck of the Dragon’s Fury. He had to admit that the blonde king and head of the Lothbrok clan was handsome and charming, when he wasn’t transgressing Tuffnut’s personal secret pact that meant more to him than his own twin most days.

Eret continued his commentary without pause, “I couldn’t hold a theft against him either after that, Thor’s beard! Never saw the poor bastard take a hit like that in the south.”

Astrid snorted, “He never would have let anyone else do that! Even his mother knew better than to push it after that slap, but she needed to make some show in front of the Heathen tribe.”

“Then why let you?” Eret couldn’t stop his curiosity. He was still reconciling so much of his life’s new perspective since the day before.

“He claims me as a baby sister,” Astrid grinned despite herself, “He’d never fight me. I know he’s got a reputation for being dramatic but he usually has a good reason; I still don’t know what yesterday was.”

“It’s called a plea for love and affection,” Eret told her before his sights resettled on Hiccup, “Why would you squander that? He’s clearly been in love with you the last seven years.”

Hiccup snorted at losing his last hope and ally, “It was a crush when we were fourteen.”

Tuffnut studied the man he was about to marry, “You haven’t really convinced yourself of that?”

Toothless wandered over as Hiccup collapsed into his desk chair, the Sergeant pointedly putting his back to all three of them while he worked on his shield. The other Furies seemed content to stay with his mother and Cloudjumper, but he could tell the Night Fury was restless before the race as he batted at Hiccup’s prosthetic. Throwing the damn thing quickly, the Sergeant went back to his shield.

How the fuck was he going to explain he and Ragnar to the three people on Berk that he was either married to or about to be?

“Hiccup,” Astrid started and he could feel her eyes on the back of his head, “You almost flew a Night Fury south to be with him.”

“Excuse me?” Tuffnut interrupted.

That got the first Dragon Rider to laugh, “Relax, I was going to invite you too.”

“Better,” The Priest allowed, “But I’m still going to need more details.”

With a huff and glance toward the ceiling, Hiccup turned to face the other three once more after tossing his leg off for Toothless and Stormfly again, “When I had to fight Hookfang, I was going to take Toothless south to avoid it. I’d already snuck Toothless into the forge several times, so I was going to bring him to your house and confess all of it. I thought… I hoped you and Ruffnut would end up coming with me.”

Tuffnut crossed the room to perch on Hiccup’s desk. Six years ago, he and Ruff would have been riding a dragon south without sparing a thought for their parents or anyone else on Berk; of that he had no doubt. They would not have missed that opportunity and, in all honesty, he would have settled his debt with Ragnar some other way.

Having debts among your fellow Vikings was shameful. Ragnarok could be any moment. There was no time for leaving something unfinished, not in their lifestyle, “You were willing to show up in front of the whole Heathen tribe with a Night Fury, on nothing but the faith that Sigurd King’s unlucky thirteenth son would support you, but he’s not marriage material? I’ll admit, I’m confused.”

Astrid snorted despite the fact that she agreed with Tuff and moved to take up a spot on the desk to Hiccup’s other side. Eret chuckled as he lowered himself onto the floor in front of Hiccup. Seeming to realize that a serious discussion was taking place, Toothless moved to drop the Sergeant’s leg in the previous dragon trapper’s lap and laid down with his large head on Eret’s knee, while Stormfly moved to perch near her rider.

“You saw what we were like yesterday, Tuff,” Hiccup felt like he was confessing to riding a dragon all over again, as Eret reattached his leg, “We… I see him and suddenly no one else is even in the room! I’ve heard what the Heathens were willing to do to purge the Dragon Hunters from the southern parts of the North. I know what Ragnar is willing to do if it becomes necessary.”

Hiccup sighed, “I know what I would be willing to do too, seven years after he and I first met. I’ve faced death and I’ve dealt it. Looking Ragnar Lothbrok in the eyes is like facing the Red Death, the Bewilderbeast, Bludvist! How can you tell me that wouldn’t be a marriage of disaster?”

“Wild and vicious as my cousin can be, Hiccup, he’s not mad like my mother,” Astrid defended her cousin. They had exchanged constant letters since he went back south after visiting. She’d written to him more often than she had her own father while they lived on Dragon’s Edge, in the good old days before her mother’s descent, “Hoffersons are strategists more than anything.”

“Besides, both of you being passionate isn’t a bad thing,” Tuffnut told him, “Quite frankly, you need someone to help drain your natural romanticism. None of us have a knack for it.”

“You think the way I reacted to him yesterday was fine?!” Hiccup couldn’t believe this. He’d died in his sleep and woken to a horrible apparition in Helheim. This was ridiculous; Tuffnut Thorston could not be encouraging him to marry Ragnar Lothbrok on their wedding day!

“It would require management to make sure you two idiots don’t go too far,” Astrid acknowledged, “But that’s what I’m here for. Tell me you’re not madly in love with him too!”

“We don’t even know that he would want to marry me!” Hiccup pointed out. “I know what I almost did, but he doesn’t! We both had life happen for the last seven years and it could have just been a dumb thing he did when he was fourteen to him!”

Before Astrid could confess, it was Eret who finally jumped into the conversation with a snort, “I was dispatched North with Bludvist and we stayed with the Heathen tribe for a while. Now I know that they were letting our leading party pass before butchering the rest, but while I was there, Ragnar did nothing but flirt with me.”

Laughing, the newest Dragon Rider looked up at his betrothed, “I was still finding my land legs after growing up on a fleet of ships, so there was a lot to learn from standing around and listening to the locals gossip. Apparently that was all Ragnar Lothbrok ever thought anyone was good for, flirting and fucking. That’s what everyone said.”

When a war broke out in Hiccup’s eyes between jealousy and rationality, Eret knew he was free to make his point, “I saw paid company begging to have his babies, his mother trying to shove any eligible person at him, and he never even considered not one betrothal. Knowing what I do now, I think he’s always considered himself spoken for. Even if that person didn’t reciprocate.”

Hiccup hissed, “It was never a matter of reciprocity.”

“Things kept getting in the way,” Eret acknowledged, “You’re not a Heathen, you had a people that depended on you, even if that people has grown monumentally over the last six years. And you lacked twelve older brothers you could put your duty off on. This is your chance to have him without shucking either of your responsibilities, though.”

Eret gave him a look, “Besides, that kiss did not scream uninterested to me.”

“He’s not wrong, Hiccup. Although, it is a matter of reciprocity now,” Astrid told him, “I talked to him this morning. He was moping about thinking he just didn’t measure up to the spouses you’ve chosen.”

“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard,” Hiccup snorted.

“Or the most flattering,” Tuffnut put in, “Just a matter of perspective.”

Astrid ignored the other blonde and locked gazes with her husband, “Then marry him. Before Berk burns down from the unresolved sexual tension. That’s going to kill us long before your marriage will.”

“Thor has less electricity between his fingertips,” Eret agreed with her.

Hiccup looked at the blonde Viking he was about to win the First Race for, “If your father tries to kill me…”

Tuffnut waved him off, “Relax, I’ll have him handled.”

The horn signaling for everyone to get to the stadium sounded throughout Berk. Toothless and Stormfly went charging outside toward the other dragons, all but bringing the closed door down with their enthusiasm. Hiccup grabbed his helmet off the desk, as a charged Astrid and Eret took off to find Skjall, “And you’re fine with this? I can at least wait for another day!”

The Thorston chuckled, “Everyone will feel better if you take another foreign husband with my obvious approval. There is already some talk about Eret just being a political marriage.”

“Dad’s gonna kill me,” Hiccup addressed, “And it will not be with mercy.”

“Are you going to warn him?”

“No, he’ll only worry himself to pieces all day long,” Hiccup knew they had a bit more time before they had to be ready to race, so he let a hand fall through Tuff’s silky blonde hair. The Thorstons of the previous generation had been split between those of very dark and very light complexes, “You know, yesterday, Astrid said you were ready to burn his ships to ash on the water. Then you were perfectly fine after that little display in the Great Hall.”

Tuffnut grimaced at that; he’d hoped only his uncle would put it together. Curse Hiccup’s brilliant mind and bless it at the same time, “The fallout of that payment may have been more than I was expecting.”

Hiccup hummed at that, putting the last pieces on his shield, “I see that. It was a great thing you did for Astrid, Tuff.”

“He’s not…” Tuff trailed off, he wasn’t sure how to explain what happened on the Heathen’s ship, “I spent so long making him the villain of our story. It was surprising to like the little bastard when we spoke.”

That earned a genuine laugh from Hiccup, “Tuffnut Thorston, do you have a crush on Ragnar Lothbrok after talking complete yak dung about the man for seven years?!”

“Shh! You can tell no one!” The Loki devotee demanded, “It was our wedding day first!”

“Fine,” Hiccup agreed, “At least until our children are born. They will know of your hypocrisy.”

Tuffnut studied him closely, thinking on the joke, “Knowing what I did… Is that why you don’t think that kiss was genuine?”

He knew the answer when met with only silence and the smaller man groaned. He watched the Sergeant test the shield a couple of times, aiming for a small target in the back of the forge and hitting the center easily. The blonde Viking moved to clarify, “I guess I’ve always thought the two of you would be inevitable, once his debt was paid. But, I mean… You do want to marry him, right?”

“For all the Hel it will bring into my life,” Hiccup knew he’d be taking the fact that he was marrying four spouses in a season to his final ship, “Yes, I want to marry all of you. What is the matter with me? I was just telling Toothless last night that relationships were nothing but pain and misery!”

As Tuffnut was laughing the second horn sounded and both knew if they didn’t get moving the Chief would send out search parties. This was officially their redo of the previous year and keeping anyone waiting any longer would not be to their benefit. As the horn faded a Night Fury roared from outside the armory.

“I’m coming, Toothless!” Hiccup shouted, strapping the shield to his back. Peacekeeper was already on one hip and he hooked his helmet to his belt on the other side, “Ready to win the First Race?”

Tuffnut cheered as they left the interior forge for their dragons, “Best husband ever! Quite frankly they should all pray you stop at four!”

Toothless was wild as Jormungandr himself, excited both to win and show off for the new Furies on Berk. He charged Hiccup as soon as his rider was in view, hoisting the Sergeant into the air with his head and tossing the brunette onto his back. There was barely time to register Tuffnut and Ruffnut’s laughter from Barf and Belch, along with the rest of the stragglers, before the Alpha dragon took off for the air.

Once in the skies, Hiccup felt like he had a moment to breathe. Deciding he still had time before the third horn, as Tuff and Ruff took their joint dragon on toward their last race together, the Sergeant pulled back and gave them a moment. The twins always had a special relationship and this was a hard day for them, even if neither would ever say anything.

Plus, Toothless was as charged as Hiccup had ever seen him. Once around the island would help ensure that some of that energy was let out, “Remember not to hurt anyone bud. Although, both of our futures with children are riding on this. So, you know, we also need to crush the competition.”

The Night Fury roared happily beneath him.

“How’s Snowfall?” Hiccup inquired, “Did she go with Astrid and Skjall?”

That earned him a nod and lovestruck purr.

“Freyjid too?” Another nod, “Alright then… Toothless, I don’t know how this is our life.”

The dragon shot off a bright plasma blast to the skies above them and it exploded like a firework.

Hiccup chuckled as the final horn sounded, drawing his best friend’s attention, “That does sum it up, doesn’t it? Okay, I guess it’s time to face the music.”

...

Tuffnut and his twin landed on the racer’s platform before realizing that they’d lost Hiccup and Toothless somewhere along the way. That would have been for the best, as Ruff started crying before they’d even gotten here, if it wasn’t for their father and Uncle Grimmel waiting on either side of their green basket. He hated that his sister had already put on her helmet to hide the fact that she was blubbering like a baby and the other racers were already shielded from sight as well.

“Where is he?” The Chief demanded from his platform above them. With the scarlet maned Viking were his wife, daughter in law, their dragons, Skjall, and the four new Furies. The designated dragons were sitting proudly by their riders’ chairs, Stormfly taking Toothless' usual spot next to Hiccup’s seat, while the Furies sprawled with Astrid’s sister on the ground of the platform.

“On his way, Chief,” Tuffnut tried to sound confident but he’d thought Hiccup knew better than to screw with their elders today. Sometimes he gave the one legged brat too much credit.

“Oh Gods,” Grimmnut lamented, “It’s last year all over again.”

“No! No!” Tuffnut moved to defend them, “He’s right behind us. I swear he was! Just… blow the horn again, he’ll be right here.”

As if testing him, Gobber signaled for the final warning horn. The smith’s husband was still riding high from the fact that the oldest Jorgensons were moving down the hill, so Hiccup had enjoyed more free reign that morning given it was his wedding day and Astrid’s family tragedy. The smith did not want to know what would happen if their son pushed it.

“Stop overreacting,” Grimmel instructed his brother as soon as the horn stopped echoing, “I’ll not have you ruining my son’s day.”

Glad the professional was handling it, Tuffnut slipped into his helmet to match the other riders. They were all showing off their new fireproof armor on the Chief’s orders.

“You just keep him on a short leash, as promised,” Grimmnut crossed his arms and glared at his twin.

Suddenly a huge gust of wind knocked the older pair of Thorston twins over, where they were standing on the platform of racers without being mounted on a dragon, just as Stoick’s helmet fell off to land in Skjall’s lap. It took the roar of the Berkians, then their guests around the stadium, to realize that Hiccup had flown Toothless in from the water and up behind all of them.

Tuffnut heard his uncle complaining grumpily to the Commander’s twin as they pulled one another up, “A real short leash indeed.”

The Night Fury landed on the platform with a mighty roar, already glowing blue. His sound off earned a response from every dragon around Berk, which shook the ground they were standing on. Hiccup removing his helmet to greet his father earned another round of applause from the Viking crowd.

Hopping up on the Chief’s platform, Hiccup tossed his father the older Viking’s helmet from Astrid’s sister looking to pass it off, and kissed Astrid’s cheek before kneeling next to her in his usual seat. Skjall was quick to come up on his other side, “Hey, sweetheart, I’m sorry about your mother.”

“I’ll be okay, Hiccup,” Skjall told him, putting on a brave face despite the redness of her little blue eyes and the tear track still visible on her face.

“Of course you will,” Hiccup let her save face, that was all part of Viking bravado, “You’re a brave and strong Viking; just like your sister!”

Astrid pulled the youngest Hofferson into her lap, “Ready to win Tuffnut the First Race?”

“Of course I am!” Hiccup told her jovially.

Stoick leaned over toward the pair from his chair, “Cutting it a little close, aren’t we?”

Hiccup winked at his father, “You know we’ve got to make an entrance, Dad!”

“Some entrance,” Valka laughed as her husband put his helmet back on with nothing but a thin mouthed look toward their son. It was cute when Hiccup moved to mimic his father, unintentional though it was, putting his helmet back on as he stood and headed back for the racer’s platform. As the young Sergeant hopped back down and remounted Toothless amid roaring Viking fans, Cloudjumper leaned in closer to her and the Chieftess confessed, “I hope they don’t hurt anybody.”

Stoick snorted at overhearing her but wasn’t worried; Hiccup had things well in hand.

The warning horn was changed out for the race horn and the marked sheep were released. Hiccup had spotted the leaders from visiting allies on Astrid’s other side and could hear Dagur’s cheers of ‘brother’ even behind his helmet. As Gobber took custody of the black sheep and readied the sentry to blow the race horn behind them, the Sergeant noticed his dragon giving Snowfall a lovestruck fool’s glance. Then, the Alpha seemed to remember that he was supposed to be extremely serious and turned to watch the stadium regally.

Hiccup grinned behind his helmet mask when Snowfall wandered over to Astrid and Stormfly at losing the Night Fury’s attention. Freyjid’s attention stayed on her brother and Hiccup, curious even as Skjall jumped back down to the platform and onto her. Brightroar and Skathia were hanging off the edge with the dark Fury.

Glancing down from his father’s stage, the Hooligan tribe heir was surprised to see another set of icy blue eyes locked on him. Ragnar was sitting with his mother just on the other side of Astrid, able to see the racer’s platform below the floor of the Chief’s, from the honored visitors’ stand.

Before he could talk himself out of it, Hiccup winked at the other Viking from behind his helmet. Looking back out into the stadium quickly, all he could think was that Tuff had been right, they were inevitable. 

Then he turned all of his attention, just like everyone else, to the Chief of Berk, who had risen from his seat.

Stoick moved to the spot that Hiccup especially designed to disperse his voice throughout the whole stadium, “Well, after the most anticipated passing of winter in all of Berk, we’ve made it to the first Dragon Race of the season!”

A round of cheers broke through the crowd, “And no one could be more proud or more excited than I am, to announce that at the end of this racing season, with the return of Berk’s fleet from war in the South, I accept my elder status. My time as Berk’s defender ends as my son and heir…”

The Chief looked over to lock eyes with his son, well aware that his voice would echo as long as he stayed in the spot, “Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third, Conqueror of the Dragonshore, the First Dragon Rider and Rider of the Alpha, _ the Pride of Berk _ , takes the knee to become Chief of the Hooligan Tribe!”

He was grateful that they were all in armor, including helmets, for the race. Still, the ground shook once more as Vikings and dragons together cheered at the announcement. Hiccup looked away from his father and saw that all of his team were standing on their dragons to cheer. Astrid and his mother had even erupted from their seats. Risking a glance backward, Gobber was crying through his cheers and even Grimmel the Grisly was being comforted by his brother as he clapped through a set of misty eyes.

Toothless shot a bright plasma into the sky over the center of the stadium and then all four of the other furies copied him, followed by the rest of the dragons. 

Stoick let his boy take in the moment. No one had ever earned it more. Then, as the cheers started to fade away, he fought back tears to continue, “But! There is just one thing we have to get through first! Let racing season begin!!!”

The horn blew for the first time to mark the start of the season and all the racing dragons got into position along with their riders. Their allies were on the edge of their seats waiting, most cheering for Hiccup after being told that he always won, but mostly curious to observe more than they were invested. Looking around, Stoick could see all the different clans of Berk cheering on the racer that they were closest related to in the tribe.

The Ingerman clan was draped in orange and bright green, while the Jorgensons looked obnoxious as ever in bright red and gold. The Thorstons were a sight in their traditional black and gold; even Grimmel had donned a bright gold arm band on his otherwise all black outfit, pointing out that his niece and nephew were going to end up winning anyway. Stoick thought that was ridiculous given their son was going to do the actual work, but said nothing.

It was ironic that instead of their usual bright blue and orange, the Hoffersons had taken to black. Yes, it was the traditional mourning color, but from what Skjall told him, most of the clan was wearing it to support Hiccup since he’d married into their family and Astrid wasn’t racing. The Hofferson clan mixed with the Haddock clan made the sea of Night Fury fans dark and imposing. It was a good thing the Thorstons were already in partial support of his son’s color, Stoick supposed.

The race started and Toothless was in the skies before the others could even leave the platform. From their places, Stormfly and the Furies roared in support of the Alpha. Luckily Astrid was there to get the new dragons’ attention so they didn’t take off after the established Night Fury. Valka helped her by taking Snowfall’s parents, while the maiden kept Freyjid and the youngest fury entertained with her Deadly Nadder.

Honestly, Stoick was surprised that the twins even left their basket knowing their victory was coming. Then, he thought that might have had more to do with this being their last race together. With both getting married, Ruffnut was moving to focus training on her Razorwhip, Wingnut, and Tuff hadn’t found a new dragon yet, although he would. Barf and Belch were the oldest of the Dragon Rider’s team and they were ready to retire.

Of course, the Zippleback would stay with Tuff until they decided it was time to leave Berk for Vanaheim. They’d help him train whatever dragon came next for the Thorston. Stoick had it on good authority that the clearly coming victory, as Toothless made the other dragons barely pass for participants, wasn’t Hiccup’s only gift for Tuffnut today.

Most were still mesmerized by the sheer wonder of Vikings on the backs of dragons.

With Snotlout and Fishlegs unable to get a sheep in edgewise against the combined forces of Hiccup and the twins, the lead up to the black sheep was more a showing of flying tricks than a competition. Though never let it be said that the Jorgenson’s knew when to quit, because when the black sheep was launched, the recently married Dragon Rider and Hookfang still went for the blasted thing, seizing it from the air. 

Stoick had seen Hiccup learning to stand on Cloudjumper, practicing a couple of times with his mother, as well as him standing on Toothless, if his mother was controlling the Night Fury’s tail. Given that Toothless had only taken to using his solo prosthetic the day before, the Chief didn’t think too poorly of himself for having a faint heart when Toothless and his son separated. Then he remembered Hiccup’s flight suit and that Toothless was flying completely uninhibited. 

The crowd went ballistic at the sight, shocked that Hiccup could fly without the dragon.

When Hiccup landed on Hookfang’s haunches the Monstrous Nightmare attempted to counter by setting himself on fire, however Hiccup was unscathed in his fireproof armor. Snotlout didn’t realize he was there, so Hiccup was able to slide down the red dragon and grab the sheep before Jorgenson ever realized what had happened. Then the Sergeant slid over Hookfang’s head and back onto a waiting Toothless below, the pair moving to throw the sheep in the twins’ basket as well.

“That’s my boy!” Stoick screamed as the victory horn sounded and the crowd, Vikings and dragons alike, broke back into exuberance.

Landing in the center of the arena, Toothless and the twins’ Zippleback roared together as their riders dismounted. Hiccup caught Tuffnut, as the blonde threw his arms around him, their helmets falling into the dirt. The kiss that Tuff pulled him into was most welcome, as Vikings of Berk from every clan and their guests began to pour from the stands to congratulate the twins, and rib at Hiccup for costing so many of them money.

Stoick hoisted his son into the air, hugging him like he was still the tiny fifteen year old returning their dragons, and the creatures newest additions, on Snoggletog. Astrid stepped up to Tuffnut, placing a chaste kiss on his lips in congratulations, wanting him to know that she was ecstatic for him. Valka congratulated and embraced the young viking who was about to become her son in law, as Skjall threw herself into Ruffnut’s arms congratulating the other Thorston twin.

The twins hugged and both were teary eyed, as they turned to embrace their dragon amidst the roaring crowd. 

Soon both the twins were whisked away by Bucket, so that he could complete their portrait which would hang in the Great Hall alongside Hiccup and Astrid’s portraits. Stoick banished his son to the men’s bathing springs, telling him to get ready for Estrid’s services and his wedding that night. As everyone else disbursed back to their daily preparations and work, Hiccup sent Eret with Snotlout, Fishlegs, and Dagur on to the springs, while he snuck back to Gobber’s forge.

The smith in question was getting some work done before going back to running interference, once Stoick had time to irritate people with his high expectations. Seeing his son coming in, the Haddock Ergi demanded, “What now?”

Hiccup grinned at him, “I need help with a wedding present.”

“You just won him the race and found a gigantic arse breed of dragon that’s supposed to be tiny just for Thorston!” Gobber exclaimed, “What more can you get the lad?”

“It’s not for him.”

“Ahh,” Gobber realized, “What’s Eret’s specialty then?”

“I already took care of Eret’s gift,” Hiccup told him, “It’s not for him either.”

Stoick’s second husband whipped around to face their son, arm with a gigantic forge hammer on the end shaking at the twenty-one year old Sergeant, “Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third, you best look me in the eye right now and tell me you’re getting ahead on Astrid’s present after that Conquest Circle stunt!”

Hiccup grinned at him unabashed, “Not quite. Although the person it’s for is a Hofferson, from a certain perspective.”

“Odin just take me now!” Gobber yelled, “Have you gone mad? Your father…”

“Doesn’t need to know about this,” Hiccup set his dramatic, yet steadiest parent with a look. After their look before the race, he’d all but convinced himself that Tuff was always right too, “I mean it. He’ll just worry himself into a snit. It’ll be better to get it over with all at once tonight…”

“Tonight?! Grimmnut Thorston…”

“It’s been handled,” Hiccup insisted and sighed, looking at Gobber with his big green eyes, “Please, Gobber. This is really important to me.”

They stared at each other for several minutes, but the smith was well aware that he’d already given in. Just like when Gobber had accepted a Night Fury into their family and ridden uncontrollable baby dragons back to Berk to stop Bludvist; when Hiccup took control there was no point in denying him, “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

Hiccup beamed, “I do.”

The lad embraced him and left his armor behind for a cleaning. Gobber wasn’t having some little hellion shine his son’s armor for his wedding… second wedding… and third. Thor Almighty!

“Get to the springs, if the Chief catches you here there won’t be any putting him off,” Gobber huffed as Hiccup scribbled his order on a spare piece of parchment and took off toward the bathing springs with only a tight hug left in his wake. Glancing over at Grimmel, where Stoick’s first husband had been reading in the shadows at Hiccup’s old desk, Gobber had no idea how he was going to react.

The Commander took a deep breath and went back to his son's copy of their Book of Dragons, which was filled to the brim with notes, “Well, that was unexpected.”

“What in Helheim are we going to do with him?!” Gobber demanded.

The first Haddock Ergi shrugged, “Celebrate his virility and crown him a king.”

“Four spouses in one season! Three in only a week!” Gobber rubbed his forehead with his remaining hand, “My Gods…”

“You realize this gives him the Heathen Army?” Grimmel pointed out, thinking over all the implications of Hiccup’s military forces.

Gobber scoffed, going back to forging Brandon Mikaelson’s new sword, “I think it’s safe to say they’re a love match. You remember what happened yesterday, yes?”

“Indeed,” Grimmel acknowledged, “And that will only make them stronger.”

The large blonde settled him with a look, “Have you ever been caught off guard? Even once in our lives?”

“Sure,” Grimmel sighed, “The night Val was taken.”

The two Ergis shared a look, knowing perfectly well how the previous dragon hunter and Commander of Berk’s fleet had responded to that.

...

Hiccup greeted everyone pleasantly as he headed for the hot springs. Toothless and Freyjid were at his side, while Snowfall had taken off with Astrid, Heather, and Ruffnut for the women’s bathing springs across the island. The older Light Furies had started exploring the island alone the night before, as they settled and realized that no one on the island sought to do them harm.

He hadn’t skipped since he was four years old but the Sergeant of Arms for Berk was having to seriously fight the impulse. Toothless was as happy as he was, tussling with Freyjid as the pair of siblings ran and flew low around Hiccup, as he headed to get clean after the race. 

So much had changed in just a day.

The previous night, Hiccup had sent off his letter accepting the mantle of King of the Vikings at Snoggletog, after gaining his entire family’s blessings before retiring with Eret and Tuff, and Astrid heading home. His father had looked as if the Chief might float to Valhalla right then and his Ergi Grimmel had been no better. While they knew that it was a good decision for Berk, Tuff, Gobber and his mother had the most reservations because they feared for his person.

Hiccup didn’t consider it much of a change to his daily hazards, then they would have been as Chief. If some idiot was determined to come after him to claim Chiefdom, then they’d come after him to claim a crown. All he’d ever been able to do on such a front, all his father had ever been able to do, was surround themselves with people they could trust.

A couple hundred yards from the springs, Hiccup was distracted by Ragnar’s voice.

It sounded panicked and was coming from just off the main trail. Following the erratic sounding Heathen King, there was no doubt that the blonde Viking had managed to stumble upon more than he bargained for when Hiccup found him.

“Your curiosity is touching, I assure you. But this really isn't a good idea. I’m not a Berkian, haven’t been around dragons since I was a kid… Surely you understand?”

Stepping off the main path, Hiccup spotted Ragnar backed against a tree by none other than Brightroar. The Sergeant fought not to laugh. The Hoffersons really had a type.

Many Berkians believed that every Viking’s soul best related to two types of dragons. Astrid had always known the Deadly Nadder was one of her dragon cores and, in the last day, it appeared that the Light Fury was the other with Snowfall sticking to her more and more. It was poetic, then, that she seemed to share the species with her cousin.

“Seriously, I’m not a Berkian,” Ragnar stressed to the dragon, his right hand pulling up in front of his chest in a defensive gesture, “I have no idea what I’m doing with dragons!”

Brightroar misinterpreted the movement and placed his muzzle against the Heathen leader’s hand. 

Hiccup chuckled, pulling both the Light Fury and human’s attention to him.

The blonde viking took a deep breath, relieved at who managed to find him, even as the white dragon took a step back. Ragnar slowly started to move toward Hiccup as the Light Fury stepped back, but he gestured to the bright beast when it followed him over, “Help!”

The Sergeant chuckled, already turning back toward the springs, “Why? You seem to have him well enough in hand. Isn’t that right, Brightroar?”

The blue eyed dragon purred, nuzzling against Ragnar’s leg, before taking off a little ahead of them to tussle with Skathia, who came out of cloaking.Toothless and Freyjid both took off to play with the older pair. They were adorable.

“I had no idea what I was doing!”

Hiccup shrugged, “But he liked you anyway. Our dragons choose us, not the other way around.”

“Is that what happened?” Ragnar asked after a moment, barely managing to keep from staring at the taller Viking, “Toothless chose you?”

“So to speak?” Hiccup thought about it for a moment, “At a time when we weren’t sure about anyone else, we chose each other.”

“Were you really going to bring him south?”

The question was out before the Heathen King even thought it through and he hated himself as soon as it was said. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe Astrid, but the temptation to hear it from Hiccup’s mouth… The words would have once more ignited his hope in them and Ragnar was weak for any such chance.

That was why it was so crushing when Hiccup denied, “No, I wasn’t going to bring him south.”

Hiccup turned from the vine curtain that blocked the springs from public view. He was surprised by the horror that had taken over Ragnar’s face, but quickly brushed the look away, leaving his hand to rest on the blonde’s face, “I wasn’t. I was bringing him to you. The location was irrelevant.”

Ragnar’s breath caught in his throat.

The Dragon Rider glanced over to where all four Furies were staring at them, curious. He smiled at them, before locking sights with wild blue oceans once more, “When I thought I’d lost my father, family, and tribe… Even when I wasn’t sure that Tuff would go with me, I knew you’d believe me and accept him.”

“Don’t.”

The instruction was like Kingsbane shooting ice straight down Hiccup’s back. The dark Viking jerked away, the pair having only been a breath away from one more stolen kiss, and scrubbed a hand across his face. He’d traded in his dragon scale armor for his older Berk armor while in the forge, but now it seemed too tight on his body. 

Shaking his head, trying to dismiss the feelings that always came with being in close proximity to Rangar Lothbrok, Hiccup forced a dry laugh, “No, of course, sorry. You were paying a debt; I’ve got to remember that.”

Where he was attempting to remember that Astrid was his baby sister and Ragnar had jeopardized their relationship more than enough in the last day, it took the Heathen a moment to realize what Hiccup was implying. Something about the love of his life suggesting that he hadn’t  _ wanted  _ to kiss the Sergeant, as if he wouldn’t go into debt to Tuffnut Thorston a hundred times over to be allowed one moment of Hiccup’s attention without having to steal it… His Heathen passion was lit by the slight.

It only burned him deeper that Hiccup was so assured as he said it. He was confident and honest in the comment, as if he were really trying to remind himself of what he’d just said. Hiccup couldn’t really think that it had just been a payment.

Surging forward Ragnar seized him by the arms, “You think I didn’t want to kiss you?”

Hiccup was startled by the bruising grip, but more so by the question. After a moment, the Sergeant shrugged as much as he was able, “Of course not, you were just helping Tuff with Astrid. I should be used to it, right? What’s a little bruise to one’s ego among Vikings?”

The Heathen growled, backing Hiccup into a tree, away from the curtain of vines, their mouths once more only a breath apart, “I have been in love with you since we were fourteen fucking years old! I will never love anyone the way that I love you and I will not let you take that from me.”

“Ragnar…”

“No! I am in love with you,” The king sighed, “But you’re married to Astrid, now. I can’t dishonor her, Hiccup. I can’t. I’ve risked our relationship too much already.”

Hiccup snorted, “Astrid loves you! What could possibly make you think she’d care…”

Something haunted passed through Lothbrok’s blue gaze and it struck Hiccup. Who else would Tuffnut trust to put Astrid before everyone else? If not himself, if not Eret, then of course he’d ask Ragnar, King of the Heathens, and Astrid’s cousin and surrogate brother, to take care of Estrid.

The blonde released him quickly and started to pace the clearing. 

Given the terror filled gasp the other man gave as he stalked away, Hiccup wasn’t surprised when their conversation summoned Tuff from the bathing springs. The Thorston had only pulled on his breeches, leaving him shirtless and only with his necklace and bracelets for each major god and goddess scattered about his bare arms. Hiccup was momentarily distracted.

“Focus, dragon boy,” Tuffnut demanded, pulling his betrothed back into the serious moment, before turning his attention to Ragnar, “Are you alright?”

Despite what he’d done, the Heathen managed to smirk at Hiccup having to shake himself once more, before having to acknowledge that he agreed. Thorston was no challenge to look at, that much was for sure, “My view certainly just improved.”

Both Hiccup and Tuff rolled their eyes.

“Fabulous as I am,” The Loki devotee dismissed, “I figured you’d be looking for Astrid by now.”

Ragnar didn’t know who all was in the springs, but also knew that they hadn’t actually addressed anything incriminating. He sunk down to sit on a large stone across the clearing from Hiccup and the blonde Berkian, “I tried. Someone gave me directions to the springs; Mom said that’s where she was taking Queen Mala, Heather, and Ruffnut.”

“They sent you in the wrong direction,” Tuffnut admitted, knowing it was a simple mistake, “The springs for the women are across the island.”

“Oh,” The Heathen had to admit that made sense, “Anyway, I got cornered by the Light Fury…”

He pointed to Brightroar, who sauntered over to him demanding the attention that Toothless and Freyjid were receiving from Hiccup and Tuffnut, as all the Furies flitted around the trio of humans. After a moment, the female Light Fury from before joined them; Ragnar got the distinct impression she didn’t like being touched. Leaving her be, the Heathen continued, “And Hiccup found us and we wound up here… She’s going to hate me.”

Tuffnut wandered over to sit next to his long time rival for Hiccup’s affection. The healer had to admit that, even after taking beatings from both Astrid and Alfhild the day before, the other blonde had a certain Thor like electricity about him that was decidedly tempting. From the look in Hiccup’s eye as the Sergeant looked upon them sitting together, if Tuff could manage to get them all married today, then their wedding night was about to be a grand adventure.

“She is not going to hate you.”

“The woman was her mother.”

Giving the Heathen an appraising look, Tuff admitted, “We’ve already talked, she and I. I didn’t tell her that it was you, but she knows what I did. If she doesn’t hate me, she’s not going to hate you.”

“I did it,” Ragnar confessed, “It’s different.”

“Why did you come here?” Hiccup finally rejoined the conversation, crossing the clearing to kneel in front of the Heathen.

“We needed to give our blessing…”

“But why not just give it? Everyone else did,” Hiccup stressed, already suspecting the truth that the Heathen King might not have put together, “A letter would have sufficed.”

“My mother insisted on seeing her family,” It took the king a moment to realize why both Berkians were giving him such pointed looks, “You think my mother knew?”

“Your uncle is no prize,” Tuffnut admitted, “Whatever strength runs in the Hoffersons, it’s clearly running from the women’s side of things. Astrid’s got it, so does your mother… If your uncle suggested that things were out of hand to your mother, would she have aided him?”

“Without question,” Ragnar acknowledged.

The shirtless Viking brushed shoulders with the larger blonde, “They would have formed their own plan sometime in the next couple months. You and I just seem to have meddling on the mind.”

Hiccup put a hand on Ragnar’s knee, “I think us getting involved kept our parents’ hands clean. When we leave here, you’ll talk to Astrid, but she’s not going to hate you.”

The youngest Lothbrok grabbed the hand on his thigh, “And what in Odin’s name are we going to do about this?”

“None of us would ever dishonor Astrid,” Hiccup assured him, “We’ll settle this once the two of you talk.”

Tuffnut smirked, catching the Heathen’s gaze, “When the time comes, just don’t cry mercy.”

Ragnar’s returning smirk was whorish at best, “We do not cry mercy.”

“They’re basically putting on a show for him! My gods!”

Hiccup looked over to see that Snotlout had his unhelmeted head sticking out beyond the curtain of vines. Standing with a grin of his own, the Sergeant didn’t pull his hand away from Ragnar’s as he shouted, “Don’t get jealous, Jorgenson. I’m sure you and Bonecrusher will meet again.”

There was a yelp from just behind the curtain, confirming that Fishlegs was also listening to some degree. Ragnar let go of Hiccup’s hand as the Dragon Rider held the curtain back for himself and Thorston, after the Haddock shoved Snotlout back inside. The Heathen was a little taken aback by the space.

Three waterfalls spouted into a huge lake and steam rose from where the two met. Large stones, smoothed to perfection, were spread around the entire area. The waterfalls fell from three mountains that soared up around the springs.

Given the noise from the waterfalls, what the others heard was questionable at best, and Ragnar wasn’t sure how long he’d been there either. Hiccup and Thorston truly didn’t seem bothered by what he’d done. The Heathen barely caught sight of Jorgenson’s arse as the Viking jumped back into the warm water, after Hiccup shoved him. So, there was little choice but for him to disrobe as well, and join the other men. Anything else would have looked suspect.

Ragnar hadn’t seen the armor that Hiccup was currently wearing before, although he did recognize the discarded fireproof armor from Snotlout and Fishlegs laying on a couple of rocks. While the Berserker sigil wasn’t as familiar to him, the Heathen deduced what was Dagur’s as well. The Chief and Ingerman were sitting on the far end of the pool chatting and barely bothered to be inconvenienced by Snotlout’s re-entry.

Eret was lounging on one of the smooth stones around the grass surrounding the warm water, drying off under the heat of the sun.

While Ragnar didn’t know who Bonecrusher was, Hiccup’s comment also earned him a rude gesture from Fishlegs, although it only made the Sergeant laugh.

Honestly, Ragnar wasn’t paying too much attention to the others. He was struggling not to stare, or trip all over himself, as Thorston helped Hiccup out of the black getup. The two were very attractive together and it was honestly a shame that Hiccup never told him before their first kiss that he was with someone else. If Haddock had, Ragnar would have gone about winning over both of them, rather than spurning Thorston and getting shipped back down south for seven years' punishment.

Hiccup was oblivious to Ragnar’s stares as Tuff undressed him, “How did the portrait go?”

“Ruff was pleased,” The Loki devotee laughed, “Dad was obnoxious. You’re lucky your father hasn’t shown up here! You did say you’d be right behind us.”

He’d clearly put on weight in the last year, muscle though it may have been, because Hiccup felt much more free once he was shirtless. Getting back to his house to change was a priority. His Berk armor hadn’t been this tight at Bludvist’s execution, “Gobber took some convincing.”

“But you succeeded?” Tuff could tell his lover had been uncomfortable in the tight armor. Dagur was bound to have a needle, so he could release the shoulders enough for Hiccup to get back to the Chief’s house. He was temporarily distracted by Hiccup’s hand going to trail over his core and the fine blonde hairs leading into his pants.

“So to speak,” Hiccup confirmed, “He’s going to cooperate.”

“How about you cooperate,” Dagur called over, ‘And keep your hands where I can see them, Brother!”

Hiccup laughed and abandoned his place with Tuffnut to wander over toward Fishlegs and Dagur. Raising his hands in surrender, the Sergeant threw his pants over the rock with the Berserker Chief’s armor, before diving into the springs. Able to relax in the warm water, Hiccup reemerged to float by the pair, “Sorry, Brother. He walked out shirtless though, my fault is minimal.”

As Snotlout jumped onto Hiccup and the two began a sordid attempt to drown one another, Tuffnut was finally able to look away from Hiccup’s naked and wet form. Glancing over, Ragnar hadn’t quite managed yet and the Thorston twin offered, “Screw Astrid’s honor. I’m not gonna make it until tonight.”

The snort Ragnar gave made his throat hurt, “I think I just swallowed my tongue.”

Thorston laughed at him, but had the decency to wave for him to follow as the healer picked up Hiccup’s armor and pants, “He does that. Do you feel better now?”

“I’ll feel better once I talk to Astrid… I hope you’re right.”

“I am.”

It was so sure a statement, but managed not to be egotistical in the slightest. Ragnar found himself dismissed into the warm water with the other Vikings, while Tuffnut managed to make Hiccup’s old clothing functional. Dagur happily gave Boynut his sewing needle, as he and Mala had both carried one since she hit her seventh month. Poor woman was constantly having to readjust her clothes.

Once the rough housing settled, Ragnar wound up in Fishlegs’ spot next to Dagur, while the three Berkian men talked shop as they swam in the pool. Thorston didn’t seem to have any plans of rejoining them, where he sat on the closest rock with his project, drying from his earlier bath. The Heathen was only slightly disappointed, given that the other blonde would have been just as attractive soaking wet, but given his struggles to sit here calmly while Hiccup swam around… Well, truly the Lothbrok could acknowledge that he didn’t need the temptation.

“How is Mom?” Hiccup asked Snotlout. They hadn’t had the chance to talk all day and both hadn’t been expecting it. Getting separated on the day Spitelout moved to the bottom of the hill hadn’t been part of the plan for the twenty years they’d had a plan.

“A wreck,” Jorgenson acknowledged, “We just had to stop once she found out. Dad said we’d finish moving them after the lot of us get done here.”

The Haddock did feel for Gertrude and Aaron, honestly he did. Scared as he was of what Estrid had become, what she’d done to Astrid, and what she would have done to Skjall, he knew that her best friend and husband left behind were hurting. Their loss wasn’t something to ever sneer at.

He changed the subject to avoid asking what he really wanted to know, “How was your wedding night?”

“Amazing,” Snotlout was absolutely wistful and it made Hiccup smile, “What about yours?”

Shrugging, Hiccup offered, “We’re waiting until Snowfall. The four of us just went flying. Before we came by the hill.”

The Jorgenson nodded; he’d heard plenty about Hiccup’s surprise visit earlier that morning, “Everything went well with the Chief?”

“It went well enough. Sent off my acceptance before I left,” The Sergeant knew there could be no more avoiding it, “How’s the old man?”

Snotlout shrugged, perching on one of the smooth rocks that surrounded the edge of the waterpool, “We’ve been planning for the day our fathers get shipped down the hill since we were seven years old. What’s the big deal?”

“Hiccup tried to say the same pile of yak dung to Astrid,” Eret, who Ragnar hadn’t been sure wasn’t asleep until that moment, finally jumped into the conversation, “What is with you Berkians not admitting to loving your fathers?”

“Funny how often Viking bravado and emotional constipation get conflated,” Tuffnut hissed, sewing needle in his mouth as he fought Hiccup’s armor.

Eret reached over to help the blonde, “As someone who hasn’t seen their father in a year and thought we’d be standing on opposite sides of a war, if we did find one another, until  _ yesterday _ ; the both of you grow up!”

Hiccup rolled his eyes at the pair of Vikings he was slated to marry. Both he and Fishlegs took up perches on either side of Snotlout. He could admit that, despite their blatant approaches, neither of his betrotheds were wrong in their assessments, “How’s he taking it?”

“I’ve never felt so guilty for dreaming of this day in my life,” Snotlout confessed, “I mean… He’s always joked about being stuck with my mother without me there, but this day’s been brutal. How’s Astrid? Heather couldn’t get to her until after the race either.”

“Your mother is the only one taking it hard,” Hiccup confessed, “Except for Aaron, of course.”

“Odin’s small mercies,” Fishlegs commented.

Ragnar couldn’t believe how easily Hiccup was all but sharing the truth with his friends. It was occurring to him more and more that Estrid’s condition and treatment of others wasn’t the secret his uncle thought it was. While nothing would make him feel better until he talked to Astrid, the realization sparked hope.

“He cried after you left last night.”

Hiccup startled and looked up at the shorter Viking. Snotlout didn’t go around holding his tongue for anyone besides Spitelout, though from the way he’d waited for Fishlegs to swim away, it was obvious that he’d been at war with himself about the disclosure. The Sergeant had to admit that the news hurt; he’d never want to upset Spitelout Jorgenson, “Why? Damn it, I knew I should have brought him to Dad’s to ask all of them at once…”

“No, no,” Snotlout waved off his concern, “He… Hiccup, you asked for his blessing before you accepted a crown. You did it right; he wouldn’t have intruded on the Chief’s house for anything short of us getting ready to ride into battle anyway.”

Dagur snorted as he took a lap around the pond, “Well, we all did that in the last day.”

Hiccup shook his head to discourage Ragnar’s curious look, although that didn’t seem to do much as Fishlegs started regaling the Heathen with the story of Grimmel the Grisly’s return to Berk.

Snotlout shrugged when Hiccup’s attention returned to him, “You’ve always been treated like my twin; it was just a thing. Dad… He just never felt like a legitimate parent to you, but last night… Thank you, for giving him that.”

They were quiet for a long time. The pair of Berk heirs just sat watching as their friends played around the springs and everyone truly got to relax after a hectic start to the Racing season. Ragnar and Dagur eventually bonded enough to try and drown one another in a wrestling match and Hiccup took his time admiring the Viking he didn’t consider his brother.

Finally, he admitted, “I wouldn’t be the Viking I am today without your father. He… At a time in my life I didn’t even think I had Gobber, because his first priority would always be my Dad, and when I was unsure about how serious Tuff was about me...When I thought I had nothing because I didn’t accept… “

Snotlout caught the pointed look toward Ragnar and nodded. Everyone with them remembered that day in the forge very vividly, except for their dragons and Eret. He nodded his understanding.

“Your father is the one who told me, out on the Undockable Shore, that if I’d shot down Toothless, then I’d better get off my arse and find him.”

Snotlout laughed at that, able to hear his father saying exactly those words. Both Vikings looked over at their dragons, where Toothless, Hookfang, and Barf and Belch were flying through the waterfalls to encourage Brightroar to do the same. Freyjid found a spot in a shallow pool next to Meatlug, Skathia eventually joining them, and the female dragons were watching their male counterparts exasperated.

Hiccup laughed at their antics, “We have dragons on Berk because of Spitelout Jorgenson. We won’t let anyone ever forget it.”

It comforted the new Jorgenson patriarch, now that his father was considered an elder, to know that Hiccup was as unhappy about the departure of the older man as he was. The two touched foreheads, before they were forced to dodge apart and evacuate the pool at Fishlegs warning shout. All the men barely made it out in time when Toothless and Brightroar dove headfirst into the water, having flown down against the waterfall in a race.

The resounding splash was so large that even Tuffnut was drenched where he’d been sitting finishing Hiccup’s alterations. The Thorston spluttered, both shocked and sopping wet, while all the others, who had been prepared, couldn’t contain their laughter.

Tuffnut glared at all of the other men, before his ire settled on Hiccup and Ragnar, whose dragons were still wrestling in the pool, “I shouldn’t even be surprised you and your stupid cousin share a dragon core! And you! I thought your King of Dragons had some manners!”

“Well, there is only one way to fix this,” Hiccup told him, wandering over to Tuffnut as the Thorston was laying out his finished armor to start drying.

“And how do you suggest we do that?” Tuffnut huffed, pointedly ignoring that Hiccup was naked before him. He would not be distracted from his ire.

Ragnar saw the twinkle of mischief come into Hiccup’s eye only the moment before Sergeant Haddock seized his betrothed in a bridal hold and threw him into the pond, pants and all, before Thorston even knew what happened. When the smaller blonde came back to the surface, cursing everyone of Hiccup’s parents, legitimate and not, for their parts in how the first Dragon Rider turned out, the Heathen King was more than happy to follow the other men, hooping and hollering, back into the water. 

He wasn’t surprised when Hiccup immediately tried to get back in his betrothed’s good graces, but he did take residency at the far side of the pool to try and look at anything else. Ragnar could admit to failing more than he succeeded.

Tuff yanked his pants off beneath the water and threw them onto a nearby rock, attempting to ignore Hiccup as the Haddock pushed into his space. He’d have to take a spin into the air with Barf and Belch to dry them before the ceremony. When he turned back to find both Hiccup and Toothless’ adorable faces begging for mercy, the Medicine Man wanted to remain unmoved.

The Night Fury seemed to sense that he was weak, and perhaps not even really angry, and bumped Tuff on his way out of the pond with Brightroar. Both dragons shook off and sprayed the Vikings at large with water again. They all grouched appropriately.

Then Hiccup had him backed up against one of the stones at the edge of the lake and Tuffnut forgot to breathe.

“Forgive me?”

Yes, of course, anything; that was his first thought, but he said, “I don’t think you’ve grovelled appropriately.”

Hiccup surged up to remind him who was the taller of their pair, water falling away to back Tuff against the stone. The Sergeant’s “Please? Forgive? Me?” was accented by a kiss on his lips at every word and the Thorston twin melted like yak butter.

“Fine, take me, I’m yours,” Tuff declared, arms going around Hiccup’s neck as he kissed him. After a moment he got offended on his own behalf and pulled away, “Do you realize how perfect you are? Do you even have to try?”

“Not to be with you,” Hiccup thought about it, “That could be taken…”

“I know the way you meant it,” Tuffnut redirected him easily, “What time are we expected to present before your father has an aneurysm? In addition, what was that disappearing act before the race?”

“It was making an entrance,” Hiccup insisted, “And as long as we’re there for the services before the wedding, I think we’re free.”

Tuff nodded, pulling away, “He’s taking this present and presentable method gentler than I expected!”

“He’s mellowing with age.”

Eret wandered over to sit next to Ragnar on the furthest rocks from the others. He laughed and goaded with the others about the utter immortality that was Stoick the Vast as he went. Settling next to the Heathen, the previous trapper asked, “You alright?”

To be fair, Ragnar wasn’t so sure either way, “Are they always like that?”

“A religious experience by proximity?” Eret clarified without need, “Yes, they are.”

He stared at the blonde Heathen when all the king did was nod. Eret had learned so much in the last day that it was hard to keep all his facts straight; the native Berkians had it much easier given that they’d lived here their whole lives, “You two are much the same from what I’ve seen.”

Knowing he referred to that kiss, which he thought caused more problems than it solved, honestly, Ragar rolled his eyes. He knew that Thorston didn’t mind him as much now that his debt had been paid, but there was no question about how much the blonde Viking had hated him for the last seven years. His attention resettled on Eret, son of Eret, “How long have you been on Berk now?”

“A year,” Eret disclosed, “Right after our leading party entered the North, and passed the Heathen tribe… Bludvist, he thought that meant the truce was holding and we were to be welcomed.”

“As if Grimmel the Grisly was going to let him enter Viking territory,” Ragnar scoffed, “Move toward his husband and son. As if they were  _ ever  _ on the same side.”

“Why did you let our party pass?” It had been the question on his mind since the previous day, “It wasn’t a numbers issue, given what you did to the following four hundred ships.”

There was no pride to be found in the stance they took of slaughtering Bludvist’s army, necessary as it had been. Ragnar’s father had died while the dragon slaver’s boarding party was visiting and he’d just become King of the Heathens when they moved on further into the North. Bludvist needed to be stopped before he could gain a foothold in the North, before he could get to Berk and Hiccup. 

Anything that needed to be done to assure that, Ragnar also felt no shame for.

“My father received a missive from Grimmel the Grisly right before you arrived. We’d already received news of your approach from Stoick the Vast of Berk and… You. You are the reason your party wasn’t slaughtered,” He confessed.

“What?” Eret demanded, shocked.

“Stoick and Grimmel of Berk had been playing the long game with the southern War Lords since before I was born. Since they got married and Stoick became Chief, honestly,” Ragnar had been raised on the front lines. His father had moved the Heathen army into the southern most part of the North, before he was born, to act as a front line after marrying his mother, Alfhild Hofferson of Berk. He hadn’t come along until they’d already had his twelve older brothers, “So, no one had spoken to the previous hiccup of Berk besides Stoick since the fleet departed. Getting a missive from him was a huge deal.”

Ragnar shrugged, “We were instructed to keep you safe as possible and get you into Berkian custody immediately. I tried to get you alone, but you were too smart and weary of us.”

Eret could remember Ragnar being a relentless flirt, but everyone just made it seem that’s how he was generally, “So, you didn’t touch him because of me?”

“He used you like a human shield,” the Heathen glanced over to where Hiccup was tussling with Dagur, while the rest encouraged them, “I don’t think he knew about the instruction, just that you were someone his Northern rival cared about. Getting to spurn Grimmel further, hauling you around the North instead of him, knowing he’d been dispatched to take the Commander’s homeland… Bludvist thought he’d already won when he was sent in.”

The previous dragon trapper was still processing, that much was very obvious. Ragnar gazed at him for a few minutes, before finally demanding, “So, what happened after you left? You certainly didn’t have that the last time I saw you.”

His hand automatically went to his scar. Eret had gotten more comfortable with it since starting up with Hiccup and Tuff, but learning that he could have escaped Bludvist stung, “He sent my ship off to trap as soon as we passed your tribe. I was late once, then he did this.”

“We didn’t have resources and suddenly no one in the whole of the North knew anything about dragons, but Bludvist didn’t care that something was obviously wrong.”

Ragnar snorted at that. Useless bastard; it was a good thing Hiccup disposed of him.

“We received the news of what had been done to the rest of the army the night before I met Hiccup,” The thought actually made Eret chuckle, “Then we shot down your cousin’s Deadly Nadder and they came tearing into my life on a Night Fury.”

“That seems to be how most of the stories I heard last night went!”

Eret laughed at his enthusiasm, “Well, from what I hear, he wasn’t a slouch before Toothless either. He almost abandoned his people for the Heathen Army and was the first person on Berk to down a Night Fury, from what I’ve been told.”

Ragnar thought about that for a moment, “Grimmel said in his missive that you were to be treated as another son to him. Having him make you equal to Hiccup, I think that was why I was so obsessed with you.”

Seeing the way the Heathen’s gaze locked on Hiccup, like the Berkian Sergeant was the only person in the world who existed, Eret was confused, “Why are you two so off kilter suddenly? You’re madly in love; get married and hush!”

The blonde Viking didn’t know whether to glare or grin at the larger man, so he sort of did both, “It got complicated. I paid my debt to Thorston by kissing Hiccup, so Astrid would get off her arse and marry him. Now, he thinks I didn’t mean it and Astrid and I have… secrets between us.”

“So, tell Astrid the truth and head your arse for the Conquest Circle,” Eret smirked as he added, “Just don’t cry mercy.”

“You Berkians are hard of hearing. We do not cry mercy!” Ragnar insisted, then had to admit, “She won’t want me to marry him, not once she knows the truth.”

“Please,” Eret dismissed, “She told Tuffnut Thorston, on his wedding day, that she wanted you married in. If that’s not certainty, nothing is.”

The assessment made Ragnar blush, having to admit, “I didn’t know Hiccup and Tuffnut were together. Despite all the time we spent together that summer, Hiccup never told me. It wasn’t my intention, even at fourteen, to tread on their relationship.”

There had been plenty of stories about Tuffnut cursing Ragnar Lothbrok after he walked in on the Heathen and Hiccup’s kiss. Apparently Tuff’s ability to hold a grudge was legendary and Eret had already vowed to never anger his husband, “Hiccup didn’t even consider that you were romantically interested in him; he didn’t think he had a shot from what he said last night. He was as surprised as Tuff, apparent. He’s always been insecure in his relationships.”

Ragnar studied Hiccup, his gaze a little lighter, as the Sergeant stepped out of the springs to dress, Tuffnut right behind him. The Night Fury, Toothless, and a two headed dragon Ragnar couldn’t name or identify, descended from the sky after a moment to get attention from both Vikings. Staring at the Berkians with their dragons, he supposed that was what the Night Fury truly gave Hiccup, confidence and security. It wasn’t his bravery, brilliance, or ability to lead like most conflated.

“I… I can’t dishonor Astrid, Eret. She’s like my baby sister. I won’t.”

Eret shrugged and pointed to the sky, “Well, no time to get you two on the same page like the present.”

Everyone noticed his gesture and all the men scrambled for their clothes as they realized that Astrid Hofferson was flying right to them with Stormfly. Ruffnut and Heather were right behind her, on Wingnut and Windsheer respectively. The springs were considered a sacred space and women weren’t generally used as messengers here, but given that every young Viking warrior on Berk was currently here, using Hiccup’s new wife wouldn’t have been unheard of. With the other newly married Viking and Fishleg’s betrothed coming too, it wasn’t as scandalous as many would have wanted it to be.

The lot managed to have on pants by the time the women touched down, although Tuff wasn’t happy that his pants were still sopping wet. Hiccup wasn’t complaining, from what Ragnar could see, because the Dragon Rider couldn’t manage to look away from Thorston’s backside; he wasn’t judging, it was an impressive arse. It wasn’t until the smaller Viking noticed and shoved at him, that Hiccup finally turned to acknowledge their new arrivals.

“Hello, m’lady,” Hiccup’s attention, having all of it turn to focus on her, wasn’t something Astrid would ever get used to, as the Sergeant wandered over to her and Stormfly, “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

She smiled at Toothless, as the Night Fury tripped all over himself for Snowfall’s attention. The Light Fury seemed more interested in Freyjid and Meatlug, where they were resting away from the main pool. She hoped Hiccup’s dragon didn’t take it too hard; Snow was just younger and hadn’t seemed to reach mating age just yet. With a few more years, they’d make a striking Dragon King and Queen.

“Your father sent me,” Astrid told him, the two sharing a look as they took in the dragons. She felt better when Hiccup whistled for Toothless and the Night Fury happily pranced over to his rider, instead of moping around the girls, “There is trouble with the fleet.”

“What happened?” Eret’s voice was panicked and Hiccup reached for him with the hand that wasn’t petting Toothless.

Giving the larger Viking’s shoulder a squeeze, Hiccup brow arched toward his wife, “Was anyone hurt?”

“No, no,” Astrid waved them off, “Apparently some of the final ships decided that they didn’t want to listen to a seventeen year old about how to maneuver Bear Island, so now they’re stuck.”

“Poor Gustav, that kid can’t catch a break between yesterday and today,” Fishlegs laughed, putting his armor back on.

“Am I meeting Dad to head out there?” Hiccup asked her, already plotting what dragons to bring.

Astrid’s head shook, “No, he’s staying here. Your Ergi Grimmel is going and you’re representing Stoick. The Commander said you’d know where to meet him to pick up his airship.”

The knowledge that he was about to be presented to the fleet as Grimmel the Grisly’s son made Hiccup feel giddy all over again. Able to read him like a book, Astrid leaned up on her tiptoes to kiss the ecstatic Viking; she was thrilled to see him so excited by the prospect, “Be back on time for your weddings, please.”

Hiccup hummed at her whisper, but that did remind him, “I will. I need you to stay here and help Snotlout with Mom and your cousin with basic obedience training.”

Confused by the second instruction, she looked around for Ragnar and realized that he was petting Brightroar, Snowfall’s father. The implications made her squeal as she jumped onto the Heathen King for an exuberant bear hug. The Hofferson couldn’t believe it; they shared a dragon core!

Catching her was simple enough, although Ragnar had no clue what his little cousin was talking about with dragon cores, “What in Helheim are you screaming about? Thorston was yapping about dagon cores earlier too.”

Ignoring the slight, Tuffnut explained with an eye roll, “According to my grandmother, every Viking’s soul relates to two dragon breeds. For example, Astrid’s dragon cores are the Deadly Nadder and the Light Fury. One of yours is also the Light Fury.”

“Oh,” Ragnar smiled and pet Snowfall, who wandered over, even as his other hand still held up Astrid, as her legs were securely locked around him, “And what’s my other core then?”

“No one ever knows for sure, although I have my suspicions,” Hiccup disclosed with a chuckle, “But that’s a reveal for later.”

“I thought the same thing!” Astrid exclaimed, her hand slapping Ragnar’s shoulder for emphasis, although her comment was toward Hiccup.

Exasperated with her perching on him, but not giving him any more information, Ragnar tried to throw her into the springs. Unfortunately Stormfly got to her in time, “Meddling dragons.”

“Jerk!” Astrid declared although the cousins were grinning at one another, before turning her attention back to Hiccup, “Who are you taking to Bear Island?”

Hiccup reorganized his plan, “If they’ve run ashore on the underwater islands, Fishlegs, I’ll need you to bring your Quakens.”

“On it,” Fishelegs whistled and mounted Meatlug to take off and round up his Catastrophic Quakens to fly out to Gustav’s patrol station, “Are you bringing the Royal Pain?”

“Meet me at Offshoot Isle,” Hiccup instructed him, confirming that he was indeed bringing his other dragon with a nod, “I’m taking Ergi out there, I’m going to bring Tytan too. We might need his firepower.”

“Sure you don’t want me to go, Serge,” Snotlout asked, since Hiccup was bringing the other Monstrous Nightmare, Offshoot Isle’s alpha dragon when Toothless wasn’t around, Tytan, “The parents will still be there to move when we get back.”

Hiccup laughed, “No, it’s alright. Take Astrid with you and get them settled. Tuff?”

“I’ve got to meet the old woman and get ready for tonight.”

“Alright. And Freyjid will follow me and Toothless. Brother?”

Dagur was already seated on Stryker and looked ready to roll, “You know you can always count on this axe, Brother.”

That earned a grin from the younger Viking heir and soon to be Chief, “Think Mala will mind if you bring Euro? We might need the extra muscle.”

“With your big boy? Doubtful! Still, the boy needs a good workout,” Dagur said, taking off after Fishlegs, “Meet you at Offshoot!”

“Wait on me!” Heather called after her brother before she turned to Hiccup, “I’m bringing Windsheer, if Astrid’s not coming. We might have to cut some ships out.”

Hiccup waved his gratitude and looked at Ruff and Wingnut, “Care to join us? It’ll be good training for your new Razorwhip.”

“Right! We’ll see you at Offshoot!” The Thorston daughter declared, taking off after the Berserker Chief and his sister, after verifying that she’d meet up with her twin after Estrid’s services with a look.

Eret was still frozen under Hiccup’s arm, but brightened when the Sergeant turned to him, “You don’t get a choice. I’m sure he wants you to come and see your father; grab Skullcrusher.”

“I’m going to meet Ergi, I’ll see you tonight,” With a kiss for Astrid and Tuff, the Dragon Rider took off. Hiccup and Toothless disappeared, surprisingly moving further up the mountains of Berk, next. Eret and his Rumblehorn followed them.

That left Astrid, Ragnar, and Tuffnut, along with their dragons, staring after the team. Stormfly made all three of them dodge for cover when the Deadly Nadder dove, headfirst, into the main pond. It did make all of them laugh when Snowfall happily followed the blue and gold dragon.

“Gothi just summoned you,” Astrid informed Tuffnut, looking back toward him and Ragnar, where the two Vikings were standing side by side. She knew that, before last night, Tuff had hated her cousin, but he seemed fine now. Honestly, what the two were doing had been confusing since she spotted them talking at the feast the previous night.

She’d seen Tuff give her cousin something for the pain of the beatings he took, but wasn’t sure if that was in character for them or not. While the Thorston was widely opposed to unnecessary suffering, there had been no jest in her comment about the Viking looking ready to burn the Dragon’s Fury to ash before it could dock at Berk. Something had clearly happened between them, but she was missing something.

“I’m sure she did,” Tuff sighed, “I need to talk to you first.”

“Alright?” Astrid looked between the two Vikings, who had locked eyes.

Whatever silent conversation passed between them, Tuffnut eventually looked back at her, “I have something to tell you, so does Ragnar. What I have to tell you, he can’t, and vice versa.”

The Hofferson maiden perched, cross legged, on a nearby stone, “You have my full attention.”

Serious Tuff grew more serious, “Alright… Yesterday, you remember when I said I was going to see a man about a debt?”

“When you saw Hiccup take off top speed for my incoming cousin? Vaguely.”

“Shut up,” Tuffnut hissed at Ragnar, who smirked like the smug little shit he was, before turning back to Astrid, “Well, I went to talk to this particular thieving beast of burden, actually. I wanted Ragnar to settle his debt with me, where he stole Hiccup’s first kiss.”

Astrid giggled, “Oh really? How did he manage th…”

The moment she put it together was adorable, Tuffnut had to admit that. Her outraged face turned red and she gasped at her friend, hand shooting up to point at him, “You jerk!”

“It wasn’t supposed to go the way it did, Astrid!” Tuff insisted on that part. He never could have predicted what would happen or how far gone Estrid was.

“You let me kick Dad!” Astrid paced to the pond and back gesturing wildly.

“Yeah!” Ragnar agreed with his cousin, mostly because he could as it was funny, shooting the Thorston a look of mock outrage.

Tuffnut glared at the Heathen King vehemently.

“You let me fight Stoick!”

“To some degree,” Ragnar allowed.

“You let me beat the crap out of my cousin!”

“That happened.”

“That part went exactly how it was supposed to,” Tuffnut informed them, earning a glare from Lothbrok, “And now, your cousin has something to tell you.”

Ragnar shot the Thorson a dark look, as Astrid arched a brow at him. He could tell she wasn’t done with the previous issue yet, “I had to pay my debt, Astrid!”

“You weren’t going to miss that opportunity!” Astrid corrected him.

Ragnar pointed at the small maiden, “That doesn’t make the first part any less true!”

“Ugh, alright, fine,” Astrid crossed her arms and turned to Tuff, “So, things got out of hand. Welcome to our lives married into the Haddocks. What’s the point, Tuff? Are we swearing him into the Pact?”

“No, no,” Tuff dismissed, “I think it’s best to just let that be a surprise from Hiccup. They seem to communicate best when they’re seconds from swallowing each other’s tongue.”

Ragnar glared, catching the slight, even if he didn’t know what the Berkians were talking about. He did notice when Astrid turned to him, for his part of this conversation. Freezing, the king wasn’t sure how to start, but eventually stumbled across, “I’m so sorry, Astrid.”

Astrid waved him off nonchalantly, “I told you this morning that the kiss wasn’t that big a deal. Especially when you’ve been letting me beat you up since we were fourteen.”

“Not for that,” Ragnar was barely able to clarify.

That was perturbing. What else would Ragnar ever need to apologize to her for? They’d been best friends since his visit that summer. Hell, when they’d lost the Edge, Ragnar had been a letter away ready to uproot the Heathen Army just to fight with them. There should never be cause for apologies between her and her big brother.

She looked toward Tuffnut. Astrid wasn’t sure if she was seeking clarification, or redirection. What she found was the same haunted look in the Loki devotee’s eyes that she’d seen that morning. 

“Oh,” Astrid said, once she placed the look. Then the implication hit her and her gaze shot to Ragnar, “ _ Oh _ .”

The Heathen King crumbled into himself, “I’m so sorry, Astrid.”

That certainly put their morning into perspective. Ragnar had kept trying to tell her something, particularly after she suggested that he and Hiccup marry. Then, Astrid would admit, the thought of them being married to the Haddock together, of her favorite cousin moving north, of him getting his own dragon and getting to have the person he’d clearly always wanted… She had been riding high on her excitement and hadn’t listened.

Ragnar felt his eyes prickle as she stared at him motionless, “Please, Astrid. Kick my arse, scream, or just…”

Shaking herself, the Hofferson stepped forward to hug him, “It’s okay, we’re fine.”

Tuffnut heaved a sigh of relief. He’d been worried at her stillness.

Shuddering with relief, Lothbrok clung to the tiny General. He could barely gasp out, “Name anything, whatever it is! I swear Astrid, I’ll do it to make sure we’re okay.”

“You don’t need to,” Astrid whispered, “I’d been trying to think of a way to tell you, to ask for your help, ever since I saw your banner sailing in. I didn’t know how.”

Tuffnut had seen plenty of warriors break down in and outside of battle. It certainly didn’t bother him. However, there was just something about seeing Astrid finally cry. It wasn’t really about her mother, although it was because of Estrid, and seeing her collapse against the King of the Heathens… He couldn’t resist stepping up to hug her from behind.

It didn’t take long of Ragnar cooing at his baby cousin for her to pull herself back together. Astrid didn’t like looking weak in front of others, even him or Thorston; probably not even Hiccup. The king pulled back just enough to wipe her tears away and asked, “In what world would you even need to ask? I’d still set this to rights anyway I could.”

The two Berkians glanced at one another, Astrid looking back at Tuff over her shoulder. Ragnar spotted mischief spark in the Thorston and instantly regretted his offer to his cousin, especially when the Viking maiden turned back matching the Medicine Man, “When the time comes, just don’t cry mercy.”

Hands going into the air Ragnar cursed, “You Berkians are all daft! We do not cry mercy!”

“We know,” the other two chorused, whistling for their dragons.

Tuffnut took off with Barf and Belch to find his grandmother before the old woman stuck her stick somewhere he didn’t want it.

Laughing at his parting comment, Astrid was thrilled that she’d already done some basic training with Snowfall, as both the Light Fury and Stormfly stood next to one another. Brightroar and Skathia came with them, and the General could see that the larger male was decidedly more at ease, now, than his mate was. Forcing Ragnar through some basic gestures, she grinned.

Tuff, Hiccup, nor Eret had the decency to tell Ragnar the plan she and the Thorston discussed that morning. While part of her could see the potential in letting the Heathen King turn and find Hiccup waiting for him in the conquest circle, it wasn’t her goal to put either in a bad spot. She needed to know how serious her brother was, now that there wasn’t a huge secret, or two, between them.

How did she ask that question, “Would you ever marry? Other than Hiccup. Aunt Alfhild came to the springs; she said she was trying to engage you to…”

“No,” Ragnar cut her off, “I wouldn’t. She knows that.”

Well, that was a simple enough answer from a simple enough man.

“Alright then,” Astrid conceded, “Who wants to take a spin around the island?”


	4. Chapter 4

Hiccup and Eret hit the Ridges in a race, spilling into the alcove and spraying water all over the place. Toothless won, but Skullcrusher was a good sport about it. By the time they stumbled off their dragons laughing and stumbled into each other’s arms, Grimmel’s airship was ready to go and he was antsy to check on the fleet.

The temptation to produce Little Eret, free from harm and engaged to his own son, was part of that desire.

“If you’re both quite finished,” Grimmel called to them, trying to shake off the water that had assaulted him and his Deathgrippers, “Ships, running aground all over Bear Island? Does this ring any bells?”

Eret was a little disappointed when Hiccup instantly turned into the Sergeant of Arms for Berk in his arms. Still, he was ecstatic to introduce his betrothed to his father. He watched as Grimmel spent several minutes adjusting Hiccup’s armor.

The Dragon Rider looked good in his Berk set. Tuff had loosened it, so everyone could see Hiccup’s white undershirt beneath, and Eret thought that added to the image. Rather than being all black with red on the shoulder, the showing white around his shoulders and sleeve made it seem like aid arriving, rather than a warrior about to go into battle. Where Hiccup resisted Stoick’s prodding and adjustments at every turn, he stood perfectly still and at attention for his Ergi.

The moment the Commander turned toward him, Eret’s hand went up, “I’m fine. Let’s go. Ships, running aground, remember?”

Hiccup snorted behind the Pale Poacher, “You were definitely not raised on Berk.”

“Why’s that?” Eret asked as they remounted their dragons.

“I can’t think of anyone on this island under thirty who would say no to him,” Hiccup smiled even as he said it.

“He’s not as bold as he often likes to think,” Grimmel shot the taller Viking he’d helped raise an exasperated look, although Little Eret’s only response was to raise his chin, as the Commander boarded his airship, “Your father mentioned we’d have to make a stop. To get your other dragon?”

“We’re heading to Offshoot Isle,” Hiccup told him, “That’s where Dad and I established the dragons that weren’t part of a Berkian household, after Bludvist.”

“Perhaps that would be a good place to establish the Heathen Tribe, if it’s lacking a human populace?”

Every fiber of Hiccup’s being froze up like he’d been struck. Grimmel saw the look on his face but swiftly sent the Fangs into the air. He’d let the boy stew on how he knew that for their trip; his son needed to be more vigilant, even around Berk.

Eret chuckled at his betrothed’s horrified face. He was used to Grimmel the Grisly knowing every single thing that he did; good, bad, and indifferent. It was no surprise to him.

After a few minutes in the air, Hiccup seemed to settle well enough. He and the Commander seemed to get into a little bit of a… It wasn’t a competition, not truly. It was more a talent show of what each of their creations could do.

There was a nice break, as they were getting to the edge of Berk, when Eret spotted Ragnar and Astrid in the air. While he and Hiccup waved, and Astrid returned the gesture from Stormfly, the Heathen King was just trying to keep his grip on Brightroar. Poor Skathia, who was flying next to them, looked equal parts cautious and fascinated by what her mate was attempting; she reminded the previous trapper of the marked sheep on a race day. 

Then, as they flew over the docks toward Offshoot, they were waved off by the Chief himself; the man still looked about to burst. Personally, Eret couldn’t wait to see how the mountain of a Viking reacted to tonight’s stunt. Hiccup never did anything in an understated way.

Hiccup put together, after seeing his father, that if his Ergi hadn’t sold him out yet, then the Commander wasn’t going to. That didn’t mean the Sergeant was any less interested in knowing who talked. But, it did encourage him that he was, in fact, sure about this.

He’d fantasized about being married to Ragnar Lothbrok since he was fourteen years old. Even after the Battle of the Red Death, Hiccup had always felt like he gave up their one second chance by not leaving before the Arena. Now it seemed like they were being given another shot at this. 

This was it. If he succeeded, he was about to be married to three of the four loves of his life! He wondered if Eret would feel left out the next two months?

Offshoot Isle wasn’t far from Berk. As they landed on the sandy beach of their overpopulation hub looking around, the Hooligan Tribe heir could admit that his Ergi wasn’t wrong. The Island had plenty of room to grow and, certainly, many Heathens would seek their own dragons once they became familiar with them once more. The warriors of their fleet, the loss of which left Berk as a wasteland compared to its former glory, had their place on the main island. By comparison, the Heathen Army and tribe would need their own space, no matter how closely allied they were.

He’d have to talk to his Dad about it… Once the Chief knew.

Loosing a loud call, Hiccup waited for Tytan, Kingsbane, and his riders to find them. As he turned to the other two, his chin jutted at the Pale Poacher, “How did you know?”

Grimmel lifted one shoulder, looking around at all the baby dragons that came pouring out of the nearby woods to greet Hiccup and Toothless, “You need to pay more attention to your surroundings. Even on Berk. I was in the forge… Sitting at your desk, actually… And possibly going through all of your old notes.”

Eret busted out laughing, to the point that he had to lean on Skullcrusher, so he didn’t drop the baby Nadder that had jumped into his arms. He’d just received his Rumblehorn the night before, and there was little inclination for him to think about taking a second dragon, but given how hard he’d fallen for Stormfly, the previous trapper was pretty sure that he shared Astrid, and Spitelout Jorgenson’s, Deadly Nadder core.

Unwilling to believe that he’d missed  _ Grimmel the Grisly _ twice in the span of a day, Hiccup was glad they hadn’t landed on the cliffs. He would have probably thrown himself off of them. There had been a time in his life where he’d have suspected that he would recognize the Night Fury Killer anywhere or anytime! What happened to him?

The Sergeant was relieved when the water started to bubble and a fifty foot high dragon, with a hundred feet trailing behind him, shot out of the water and charged up the shore towards them with a roar. Kingsbane gave him the perfect opportunity to hide his embarrassment, as the baby Bewilderbeast demanded his rider and adoptive parent’s attentions.

Hiccup’s young dragon still had another hundred feet to grow upward and would more than double in length. Kingsbane’s white scales were tinged with red all along his spikes and dorsels. His mother shared that the baby Bewilderbeast would darken from light to black as he gained experience. 

Losing any dragon was sad, but for his mother’s Alpha to be lost the day their human family was reunited, when the creature had only been old enough to have its first, and only heir, was a real tragedy. Given that male Bewilderbeasts tend their eggs, Hiccup’s little guy had been orphaned by Bludvist’s attack. Given that even his feral vigilante dragonlady mother hadn’t known the location of any others of his kind, and the strong bond that Hiccup and Toothless forged with the baby dragon… 

Well, Hiccup was just glad his mother was back to talk the old man into that one.

Laughter bubbled from within him as Kingsbane threw him into the air several times. The Bewilderbeast’s talents were insurmountable in terms of strength and monitoring Berk’s waters, with Toothless’ adopted son going back and forth between Offshoot and their home. But, Hiccup hadn’t had time to visit since his Ergi came back the day before, so his little man was full of energy.

Landing on one of the dragon’s tusks that were already twenty feet long, it took the Haddock a moment to reorientate to the wider world. Taking a deep breath after the rough housing, Hiccup was surprised to settle and find not all was well within his world. Quickly he scaled Kingsbane and jumped back down onto the sand.

Toothless had taken a defensive stance in front of the two year old dragon, his son, unnoticed by Hiccup or the Bewilderbeast during their play. The Night Fury was glaring daggers into his Ergi and Eret. The older of the Viking pair was holding a blow dart of some sort, although he no longer looked like he was genuinely trying to use it, while Eret had his back to Toothless.

Hiccup’s betrothed had clearly flung himself between Grimmel and the dragons, probably attempting to explain that the Bewilderbeast was only playing.

Glancing back at his little guy, Hiccup saw that his head was tilted, as if he couldn’t for the life of him figure out what was happening between the Vikings and Toothless. The Night Fury in question relaxed as soon as Hiccup hit the beach again, and so did Eret for that matter. His Ergi slowly moved to put the dart away, but he still looked utterly faint.

It reminded Hiccup eerily of when his father had almost died, when the Dragon Riders had been out at Dragon’s Edge.

Quirking an eyebrow at the Commander, he clarified, “Mom and Dad didn’t tell you?”

“Your father said you had another dragon,” Grimmel whispered as his son and both dragons moved closer to him on the beach, “Your mother said she’d lost her Bewilderbeast, then, much later, after drinks, made vague mention of the two of you sharing a core… I’m sure they think they’re very funny.”

Eret happily scattered away from the father and son pair, as Hiccup came within reach. Grimmel was grateful that the boy, who’d known what was happening, grabbed him, although he’d been surprised. Little Eret, and pretty much all the kids under thirty, who’s parents managed to stay together on the fleet, never took liberties with his person. His fearsome reputation had, unfortunately, scared them. 

But, everything had happened so quickly, with no warning… And the Bewilderbeast had looked like it was charging. It had been, actually, but not with harmful intent.

It had been a reflex to go for a dart. By the time he had it out though, Toothless had gone on the defensive, and Eret had taken hold of the situation to explain. The boy had barely gotten out ‘He’s Hiccup’s,’ before Grimmel was taking a second look to recognize the play. 

He could admit that his emotional heckles had always been extraordinarily sensitive where Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third was concerned. Grimmel knew that he’d have to manage it differently now that he was back on Berk permanently, but the Commander had no intention of changing his protective intent. The truth was that mistakes like this were bound to happen, as he adjusted to dragon civility after twenty years at war with the creatures.

Still, embarrassing himself in front of his son was not something he wanted to deal with today.

Hiccup huffed when he saw how uncomfortable making the mistake had made his Ergi. He always felt the same way when he failed in front of his father. Honestly, he’d felt the same way on their way to Offshoot, that aching bitter sensation of knowing he’d somehow disappointed or been found wanting by Grimmel the Grisly had been almost physically painful. 

“I should have told you.”

Grimmel could see the recognition of what he, himself, was feeling in Hiccup’s eyes. With a deep sigh, the silver Viking forced himself to admit, “You have a six year history with dragons. You couldn’t, nor should you be expected, to warn me about every single one we might encounter.”

Hiccup got ready to argue with him, but the Commander cut him off by pulling the Sergeant in for an embrace, “Likewise, I can’t, and won't, be expected to stop being protective of you. We’ll manage.”

Eret had the decency to look away, although he was grinning at the ground as he did so. He had heard so much about Hiccup’s admiration and love for his Ergi the night before, that he knew exactly what such a soft exchange would mean to his betrothed. When voices and roars sounded from the woods behind them, he watched both of the genius Vikings separate and move toward Kingsbane and Toothless for a proper introduction.

When their team emerged, it would have been perfectly forgivable that they didn’t pick up on anything odd. After all, it did just look like Hiccup introducing his other dragon to his returning Ergi. Fishlegs had his team of three Catastrophic Quakens trailing him and Meatlug, while Heather and Ruffnut looked like sisters on their matching Razorwhips. Dagur’s Triple Stryke had stayed behind with Mala on Berk and he was currently riding their Eruptodon, Euro.

Skullcrusher was best friends with Euro and, in the open space of the beach, Eret wasn’t surprised when the two started rough housing. He went to talk to the other riders, to give Hiccup and Grimmel another moment in private.

Kingsbane, still young and full of Tiny Tooth energy, was happy to hunker down in the sand to be a little closer to Hiccup and Grimmel’s level. The Bewilderbeast seemed to recognize that Grimmel was more significant than the other humans, each of them he’d met at least once before. The two year old was perfectly content to watch them chat and allow Grimmel to pet him as Kingsbane tried his best to follow their conversation as much as he was able

“I wasn’t angry with you earlier,” Grimmel felt the need to clarify, “About not noticing me in the forge. It was really more a joke.”

“I know and you’re right; I do need to be careful, even around Berk,” The Sergeant sighed, “I just… Astrid said something earlier and… I know not everyone is lucky enough to have the six parents I do. People who would make the sacrifices for them that mine have, and I would never want to disappoint any of you.”

His Ergi realized instantly that was where they were different. Grimmel didn’t like to be wrong or out of control, period. Where Hiccup couldn’t stand being a disappointment.

That reminded the older Viking of someone.

The Commander snorted, looking back at the team and their dragons. Toothless and the Monstrous Nightmare had paired off to battle against Skullcrusher and Euro, while Eret, Fishlegs, and Dagur were chatting with the girls about something, the women still perched on their Razorwhips. The Ingerman’s boulder class dragons were content in themselves, to play amongst themselves. He nodded toward the party, “Hiccup, look at what you did. You rebuilt this world. Our world. Tripping when you carry the weight of us all is not shameful.”

Hiccup tried to let those words, that perspective, sink into his mind. It was a struggle.

His Ergi chuckled as he turned away from Kingsbane to move back toward his airship, “You take too much after Stoick. Frigga help us.”

No one besides Gobber had ever told him that he took after the Chief. Eventually, it had started to feel like the blacksmith was only trying to make Hiccup believe that he was anything like his father. Hearing it come from the Commander of Berk’s fleet, who’d been away for decades, made him beam.

As Grimmel moved away from him, a thought struck the older Viking, “Six?”

Hiccup sighed, “Dad may not like it, but the truth is that I would never deny Spitelout his due. That man… I always knew that I was family in the Jorgenson house.”

Hiccup hustled over to the others to get the team moving, “Alright, guys, routine aid mission!” The Sergeant told them.

Grimmel watched closely as everyone stood a little straighter at his son’s tone. He took control easily but led by example, rather than fear or intimidation. The people that followed him did so because he inspired them, not because they felt obligated to him.

He’d known that Spitelout was on Berk and looking after his son in the last twenty years. Of course he was. After the Battle of the Red Death, when he’d watched his son take off on the back of a Night Fury, from the window of the abandoned Jorgenson house, there had been no room for doubt, because his best friend had been the one to sound an alarm. But, it was obvious that he’d underestimated how much the man had to fight for that right.

When he’d come back to Berk the first time it had been obvious that Stoick and Spitelout weren’t speaking. They were never speaking though, so he’d just told them to get over themselves and produce his son. Given that the hard heads had cooperated, Grimmel honestly considered the situation fixed; he should have dove deeper into the situation. Something wasn’t right if Stoick made Hiccup felt like he couldn’t claim his own godfather was family.

He’d address it back on Berk.

Turning back to his airship, Grimmel also returned an ear to his son’s plan.

“I’m taking Toothless around to assess the damage. Tytan, you’re flying with me and team Fire and Fury. Alright, bud?”

The Monstrous Nightmare roared in response and Hiccup laughed, petting the dragon’s snout, “Boy, have I got a Viking for you!”

The dragon purred as his only response.

“We’ll have two more teams,” Hiccup told the rest of them, “Fishlegs, Ruff, you’re going to make up team Sharp Boulder. Dagur, Heather, Eret, you’re making up team Eclectic Air. We’ll split the load three ways, depending on the damage, and we’ll be back on Berk in no time.”

A chorus of affirmatives rang out as everyone returned to their dragons.

Eret wasn’t surprised when Hiccup stopped by him and Skullcrusher, as the Sergeant was getting Toothless, Freyjid, and Tytan ready to fly in together, “You should fly in with Ergi. The fleet will feel better if they see someone they know on a dragon.”

“Got it,” The blacksmith set him with a look, “You’ll be there to meet Dad, right?”

“As soon as I get a look at what we’re dealing with,” Hiccup assured him.

The flight out to Bear Island took half an hour. Grimmel watched closely as Hiccup handled and flew between both Night Furies and the Monstrous Nightmare, he’d been told the beast was called Tytan. Freyjid did fairly well with Hiccup gliding over and onto her, as she’d been watching her brother with the human all day and night since their reunion. 

The flight suit worked beautifully and the Commander wanted a closer look. Especially after seeing the fireproof version in the race that morning.

Tytan didn’t seem quite as comfortable with Hiccup’s coming and going from him. He participated, but was much happier to follow after the human and his Night Furies. Grimmel wondered if that had to do with the fact that Hiccup wasn’t the dragon’s chosen rider, nor did he have a Monstrous Nightmare core. 

Valka and his mother both insisted those were very important factors with dragons.

Hiccup was relieved that Tuff had been able to leave his gliding suit functional, as he put together that was what the Thorston had been struggling to do earlier. He went back onto Toothless when they got within a mile of Bear Island, leaving Tytan alone. The dragon liked him, but he couldn’t blame the big guy for being irritable.

He was good with dragons, but no one on the team he’d brought even had a Stoker class dragon core. It would be fantastic to see what Ragnar could do with the prideful and determined titan wing that the vivid red and black Monstrous Nightmare was. Until they got back to Berk and introduced them, Hiccup wasn’t going to risk him setting himself on fire because he found the human with a Tidal and Strike class cores irksome; especially when he didn’t have his fireproof armor.

They passed over the majority of the fleet and Hiccup was overcome by the sheer number of vessels that were currently sailing toward Nadder Isle and then Berk. As they passed over numerous men, women, and children, who had been born into the fleet in the south, came onto the deck of many ships to see them.

Hiccup spotted so many others pointing to their dragons, probably telling their children about creatures they hadn’t been allowed near, or seen, in their lifetime. Reactions were varied among the small humans, some about to fall off the ships as they tried to lean out farther to see more, while others were hiding behind their parents. Berk would certainly be a real experience for them.

Cheers also rang out for his Ergi as they flew by. It reminded him of when his father stood to speak on Berk and made the Sergeant grin.

Eret hung close to Grimmel’s airship, wanting to touch down with the Commander, who he was certain would head straight for his father. 

When Bear Island came into view the team came to life once more. Ruff and Heather broke apart, the Thorston joining her betrothed and his Boulder class dragons, while the newest Berkian made a break for her brother. Passing the fleet had inspired them to make a good first impression.

It was not difficult for the Commander to spot Big Eret. The man wasn’t as large as Stoick, but was about twice his son’s size. His General was standing with the young Viking that Grimmel had come to learn was Gustav, per their introduction at the feast the previous night. Both were shaking their heads and glaring at the ships that managed to run themselves aground.

Currently the pair were standing near the largest ship in the fleet, the Hull Ship, which always trailed behind the battle vessels with supplies. Realizing that it wasn’t just war ships that had been beached, Grimmel was relieved for Kingsbane’s sheer size; they were really going to need the Bewilderbeast to get back to Berk on time. He counted seven ships which had managed to run amuck because their captains couldn’t follow directions, and that was just what the Commander could see on his way to Big Eret, as Hiccup broke from their group to get a better view.

Most crews had remained on their vessels awaiting further instructions, but they all came to life at seeing Vikings on the backs of dragons for the first time. Decks came to life, along with each ship’s Captain and their small teams, which were standing on the ground near their floating homes of twenty years, were pointing in utter awe as they took in the sight. All the attention is what finally made Gustav and Big Eret turn around to see them landing.

General Eret had been Grimmel’s right hand man since they originally departed from the North twenty years prior. They had bonded over leaving their family and friends, after the larger Viking joined the fleet with the promised ships from the Berserker tribe. He’d been fortunate enough that his wife had been early on in her pregnancy and was able to come with the Vikings deployed to the South, unlike Grimmel, who was leaving a baby boy behind.

Of course, while their first fifteen years together had been relatively boring, hunting the dragons and Grim worrying about his hiccup of a son back on Berk, in the last six years that had all changed. The interesting stories he’d heard since then meant that he couldn’t wait to meet Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third for the first time. He had been left with the fleet when the Commander made his two trips home, so this would be his first chance to meet the boy he’d heard so much about.

Given his excitement, Big Eret would have to be excused for not realizing who was on the dragon next to his best friend until both men hit the ground. The realization made him gasp.

Eret froze when his father finally noticed him. He’d missed the older Viking terribly from the moment he was moved under Bludvist’s command, but at the same time he knew exactly how much had changed leading to this moment. He was standing there in a golden dragon scale shirt, next to a Rumblehorn that was pounding his nose on the ground with more force than any Viking wielded hammer, in order for the beast to get the lay of the land. It was bound to be a lot to take in.

Given that Grimmel the Grisly clearly had no intention of helping them along by saying anything, Eret, son of Eret, was relieved when Gustav jumped in.

The newly stationed, seventeen year old Viking raised his chin to a dismounting Fishlegs, “I hope your mother has better luck with them then I did!”

“If they don’t listen to my mother, they’ll have bigger problems then her team’s dragons,” Fishlegs told him, hitting the ground, “Mama Ingerman is all about active listening.”

Just hearing them, Eret snorted and looked toward the ground with a grin; that was true. When he looked up, the Viking began to move toward his father, “Dad!”

Jolted from his stunned surprise, the bigger Viking moved like lightning from Thor’s hand to embrace his son, picking the boy up off the ground, “Little Eret! Oh look at you, in one piece and everything!”

“Aww, he goes by Little Eret. Isn’t that adorable?”

“Shut up, Dagur!” Eret ordered as his father placed him back on his feet.

Surprised the General’s head whipped over to the scarlet Viking, “Dagur? Oswald’s boy?”

“Yes,” The affirmation was a little surprised. Dagur took in the man with his arm still slung over Eret’s shoulders to keep a hold on him, but he wasn’t someone the Chief recognized, “Should I…”

“No, gods no,” Eret waved a hand and finally released his grip on his son. Moving over towards the young man, the sailor confessed, “You were so little when we left, there’s no way. I’m Eret; I was your father’s best friend and right hand man in our tribe. I got sent south with the fleet and my family.”

Dagur was stunned to silence.

The larger man didn’t seem to notice as he wandered over to observe the young Chief, “By Odin, you took after your father, son. I could have mistaken you for him!”

The Berserker Chief absolutely beamed at that and none of his friends would ever dim his happiness by poking fun; not about something like that. Ruffnut wandered over to hold hands with her betrothed, while Eret hung back with Grimmel. Everyone was content to wait for Hiccup and let the Berserkers have a moment.

After a second, Dagur seemed to remember who else was with him, and he quickly reached back to pull his sister forward and into the conversation, “This is my sister, Heather.”

“Yes she is,” Eret scoffed, though it was in delight, before stepping forward to kiss the girls cheek, “I suppose it’s only right, sweetheart, that you’d be as lovely as your mother!”

“You are right about that,” Grimmel added in from behind them.

Heather blushed and thanked him.

Eret smiled at the young Viking woman when she looked at him, “You got your old man’s eyes though. That Haddock green runs true, huh Grim?”

Grimmel laughed. 

Everyone in the North knew that Dagur’s grandmother, Lady Sigrun, had an old husband who died without leaving any heirs. Sigrun had been young and no one expected infertility on her part, but the situation had left her bare for the vultures. There had been talk that, after her next maiden’s blood, then she’d be executed and another Berserker Chief could have been picked through Trial of Combat.

No one had been expecting her to be pregnant. Sigurn had been best friends with Chieftess Gunhild, wife of Chief Erik Haddock of Berk. When funeral rites had been held for Sigrun’s husband, the pair of Haddocks had visited Berserker Island, and nine months later Stoick and Oswald had been born within days of one another. Everyone in the Archipelago had put together what happened, particularly when the pair went around looking like twins.

Heather, who hadn’t been raised around her family, was absolutely scandalized by the story when Grimmel told it to her the night before at her wedding feast. Dagur had confirmed that was the way it had been told to him by their father as children. Still, she was thrilled to be in on the joke.

“I suppose I can’t disagree,” Grimmel told the lot, eyes cast upward, “Especially given who we’ve got incoming.”

Everyone looked up to confirm that Hiccup was flying toward them. He was standing on Toothless, Freyjid and Tytan on either side, making the Viking look incredibly impressive. Eret decided it was now or never.

“Oh, Dad, that reminds me, I need to tell you something,” Eret said quickly, “I’m betrothed.”

Big Eret spun toward his son quickly, “To who!?”

“Him,” All the younger Viking did was point.

The boy’s father got whiplash from looking between the incoming Dragon Master and his son. After a moment to process the new information, the older Eret’s gaze finally settled on Grimmel, “Our sons are getting married?”

“In two months, at Berk’s Grand Feast for the end of marriage season,” Grimmel told him, knowing the other shipman would remember how big a deal that was from their days in the Archipelago.

“Yes!” Big Eret cheered, running over to scoop his son up once more. After a crushing embrace he told the boy, “You may have come out the starting gate late, but damn if you didn’t choose well, son!”

“Thanks, Dad,” Eret gasped as he was returned to his feet.

Thrilled as Grimmel was at the match, he was glad Big Eret set his son down before Hiccup landed. He had waited for twenty one years to show off his son to the fleet and the day after Hiccup sent off his acceptance of King of the Vikings was the perfect time. No one’s wedding, betrothal, death, or otherwise, was going to take this moment from the Commander, and if that made him petty or selfish, the masses could take it up with him in Valhalla.

“What’s the damage, son?” Grimmel asked as Toothless touched down, moving toward Hiccup.

The Sergeant dismounted Toothless and took off his helmet before answering, eyes going straight to his Ergi’s, who was two feet away, “Well, we’ve got twelve warships beached. Plus this tanker. I figure if we split the smaller vessels between Eclectic Air and Sharp Boulder, then Fire and Fury can handle this big boy.”

“Why is it called Fire and Fury, if the main muscle is a Tidal Class?” Grimmel finally asked. He’d been wondering since they left the beach of Offshoot.

“Before, when we thought Toothless was the last Night Fury, it was another inside joke. He’s adopted Kingsbane, which is why the little guy was named that, because he drove his new daddy up a wall. So, that made him an honorary Night Fury,” Hiccup explained, blushing slightly.

They were interrupted by a voice from behind Grimmel, “He’s prettier than your sisters!”

Hiccup’s head shot toward the voice and it was not hard to figure out who the hulking man beside Eret was. He grinned at his future father in law and was comforted when the man grinned back at him. Eret looked just like his father, just with less beard and muscle. 

“Son, meet my general, Eret, originally of the Berserker tribe,” Grimmel introduced.

The two Vikings moved to brace arms.

“An honor to meet you, sir,” Hiccup offered. He did not want to screw this up.

“The honor is all mine,” Eret told him, knowing how much this moment mattered to Grim, “Your Ergi had told me some of the most fascinating stories of your adventures.”

Hiccup scoffed, “It wasn’t nearly as exciting as it sounded on paper, I assure you.”

“Liar!” Ruffnut called, “I’m banking my entrance into the Valkyrie on some of those stories, H!”

With an eye roll, Hiccup waved his team over, the Berskerkers already much closer than the couple. The Sergeant made a grand gesture to the group, “This is my team. I think you’ve already met my Shield Brother and Chief of the Berserker tribe, Dagur, and his sister, Heather?”

“That I have!”

“They’ll be making up team Eclectic Air, with Eret, and freeing the six ships on the east side of the island,” Hiccup told everyone, earning a round of nods, “Making up team Sharp Boulder, we’ve Fishlegs Ingerman and his betrothed, Ruffnut Thorston, they’ll be taking the west side of the island.”

“Thorston and a Nut?” Big Eret demanded, giving his best friend a look.

Grimmel smiled at the girl, “My niece.”

Ruffnut was ecstatic to be introduced by Grimmel the Grisly as family. She’d always been told that the Commander of Berk’s fleet was her father’s twin brother, but until the previous day it had been hard to believe. It was easier to relax around the man, now that she’d walked in on him and her Grandma Gothi giving the old man an attitude adjustment.

“Hello, dear,” Eret offered, before turning his attention to the blonde Ingerman. The boy certainly looked like Gobber, Stoick’s best friend; they’d been shoved together often enough in their youth when Stoick and Oswald were visiting one another, “Betrothed, eh? Would the wedding be this season?”

“We’re completing the middle marriage,” Fishlegs told the returning Viking, more confident with Meatlug and three Quakens at his back.

“Ahh, congratulations then!”

“And speaking of weddings,” Hiccup redirected them, “I would like to be on time for mine. Otherwise I have to deal with my father in a snit; I believe you all know I make it a point to never deal with my father in a snit?”

There was a plethora of affirmations as everyone did, in fact, know that. 

Big Eret and Grimmel grinned at one another. Both knew exactly how Stoick the Vast could be.

“Alright, break off into your teams. If you have any concerns, defer to Commander Thorston,” Hiccup flashed to the Viking in question, “Any safe conduct?”

He hid the displeasure from his face by sheer force of will. It wasn’t that he minded the title; he’d been called that for twenty fucking years. It was fine… If it was someone else saying it. 

His son didn’t need to call him that. Not in the North, not among their fleet, and certainly not in front of his Dragon Riders and Eret!

The general in question barely kept a straight face as he noticed the disturbance. Big Eret knew the second they were alone, he’d be hearing all about this. Poor Grim, he’d always been so insecure about his place in his son’s life. Stoick had apparently gone down the same path for a while, but from what Eret heard from his friend, it had only been a phase. The larger Viking hoped that, now that he was back on Berk, the Commander would start relaxing about if Hiccup would consider himself Grimmel’s son.

Eret would just have to wait to find out who Hiccup was marrying tonight, no matter how insatiable his curiosity was. 

Grimmel said, without missing a beat, “I will be coming around having words with my captains about following orders and who currently holds rank in this Archipelago. If you need assistance, flag Big Eret and myself down.”

“Are you heading east or west first?” Hiccup asked, calling Toothless over.

The Night Furies danced around. They started with Hiccup, before Toothless moved over toward Grimmel since he wasn’t occupied with other dragons. Freyjid seemed a little more reserved around the ships and that made since; she’d been captured and on them just days before. Toothless gave her confidence, but she wasn’t immune.

Of course, when Hiccup looked up, he realized that notion went both ways.

Where his Ergi was petting Toothless, seemingly without a care, Eret’s father had gone tense, although he hadn’t moved either. Hiccup would give him credit, because Toothless was an exuberant dragon, even on his grumpy days. 

Big Eret glanced over at his friend, where Grimmel was petting a fucking Night Fury like it was the most natural thing in the world, “Really? You’re just going to… Alright then.”

His son laughed, although he more than understood his father’s struggle to process it all. The younger Eret waved his father over to him and Skullcrusher, “Dad, come meet my dragon. This is Skullcrusher.”

The older man moved because he was well aware that there were hundreds of men, women, and children on the deck of the Hull watching for how they would react to the dragons. Luckily none of the other ships were in view, but the General was well aware that this was important to making the Vikings returning to the North feel confident. If he was going to face Ragnarok, he could meet his child’s dragon.

“Hello, Skullcrusher,” Eret offered when he reached his son’s shoulder. He sucked in a deep breath when his son grabbed onto his hand and stuck it out toward the gigantic Rumblehorn with a nose that could make Mjolnir jealous.

“What do you think, big guy?” Little Eret asked the dragon, as his friend placed his muzzle against his old man’s palm.

Big Eret jolted at the contact, instinctively looking back toward Grimmel, “Well that was different.”

The Commander laughed and admitted, “That’s exactly what I said,” before he turned toward Hiccup to get them moving, “We’re going east.”

“I’ll move west once I get the Hull ship back in the water.”

The other Berkians seemed to leap into action. Eret the Elder watched fascinated as they moved into their separate teams. His son had smiled and hugged him once more before taking off to join the Berserkers. He could see why Hiccup called them team Eclectic Air given that they were made up of a Rumblehorn, Razorwhip, and an Eruptodon. Team Sharp Boulder came together quickly, as the couple gathered their three Catastrophic Quakens, a Gronckle, and another Razorwhip.

It wasn’t until he turned around to rejoin Grimmel on his airship that the sailor took in Hiccup and realized something wasn’t right, “Woah, woah! Forgive me, I realize you all are the experts, but how is one person going to move the Hull? Even the titan wing couldn’t move that thing!”

He knew that he was missing something when all the younger Vikings erupted into laughter. 

Hiccup smiled at Eret’s father, “Don’t worry. I’ve got plenty of help. Besides, if I do need anyone, Gustav will pair off with me.”

The young Viking in question looked like he might explode from the joy of being told he and Fanghook, his Monstrous Nightmare, were going to be working with Hiccup.

Grimmel even shared a grin with his son before instructing, “Wait until we’re in the air to call him up. I want Eret to have a good perspective.”

Hiccup snorted, “Fine.”

Loading himself onto Grimmel’s airship, Big Eret’s eyes trailed after his son as Eclectic Air took off toward the grounded ships on the east side of Bear Island. The other team took off as well, leaving Hiccup to start investigating the Hull and the location of its side chains to pull it back into the sea. They weren’t ten feet into the air when Grimmel started.

“What was that 'Commander' nonsense?” The Viking hissed.

“It’s called a show of deference,” Eret informed him.

“I’m one of his fathers, not some ally from abroad!”

Rolling his eyes, the larger man leaned against the ship and arched a brow at his friend, “Are you telling me that in the last day, he hasn’t referred to Stoick as just ‘the Chief’?”

The demand surprised Grimmel, because Hiccup had done that a hundred times just on their walk to meet the Furies. He hadn’t really thought anything about it, seeing as it was clearly just the way their son thought of and admired his father, but, “It’s different…”

“No, it’s not,” Eret cut him off, “Grim, you are the Commander of Berk’s fleet. He’s going to give you all the respect that you’re due, in order to make sure everyone else does the same. You can’t be a tenderfoot about this.”

“I am not…”

“Yes, you are. You’re his Ergi, it’s obvious already that he adores you, worships you,” The General nodded to where Hiccup was studying the children on the Hull’s deck while he petted his Night Fury, the energetic and talkative Gustav at his side, “So, how was the rest of Berk?”

“Valka and I had it out, so did Stoick and I,” Grimmel confessed, “Gobber is managing everyone on Berk, while Stoick gets the village ready for the fleet to arrive. Hiccup sent off his acceptance of the crown last night.”

“Hoorah,” Eret offered genuinely, “Who is he marrying today?”

“My nephew, Tuffnut,” Grimmel offered, “As well as the King of the Heathens, Ragnar Lothbrok. Although, Stoick doesn’t know about that one. It’s going to be a surprise for the Conquest Circle.”

Big Eret laughed, throwing his head back, “Takes after his daddy, that one! Old Red should be thrilled!”

“If he doesn’t get a faint heart, I’ll agree with you,” Grimmel agreed with him. When Hiccup whistled for Kingsbane, he grinned, “Watch this.”

All attention was on the bubbling water next to the Hull when Kingsbane shot out of the water next to the vessel and charged up the beach toward Hiccup. The children who had been leaning about the edge of the deck sprung back away from the railing at the Bewilderbeast’s appearance. The bravest among them, after a moment to see the creature start playing with Hiccup, ran along the edge of the deck to get a closer look.

“Frigga have mercy,” The larger viking gasped.

“You’d have loved my reaction,” Grimmel confessed, though he didn’t offer any details.

“Well isn’t that just…” Eret trailed off, unsure what to say, “Life’s never going to be boring with your son around, is it?”

Grimmel laughed, “No, it’s not… And you’re not wrong, about me with Hiccup. It’s just…”

“I know, Grim,” The General watched as Hiccup flew the Night Furies onto the deck of the Hull, obviously wanting to introduce the smaller dragons to the kids. He’d known yesterday was going to be rough and magical for his friend in equal measure.

He’d never seen the Commander as his friend had been during their journey back to the North. It had started when they went hunting for Furies one last time, although it had been with very different intent. Once they’d captured the four that they were able, Grimmel had only gotten worse. Eret had been running the fleet since they crossed back into the Archipelago, as all the silver Viking had been able to manage was feeding and caring for the four dragons; he’d sat outside their cage and stared until it was time for him to head for Berk.

The man’s General knew exactly what he’d been thinking. He’d almost committed genocide on an entire species of dragon to avenge Valka. He’d missed their son’s entire life engaging in a war to keep the South at bay, while Hiccup suffered through growing up, and then reforming the North, without him, for six years. There had been no words to make the realization that Berk’s Chieftess was alive, and hadn’t returned to their family, any better; not even in the entire year it took them to pack up, find the Furies, and journey back home.

He reminded his friend, “You can’t relive twenty years in a day though.”

The Commander had to admit that his friend was right, “Let’s go threaten these idiots back into line. I’ll feel better if I let some of this energy out.”

Hiccup hit the deck of the Hull ship and wasn’t surprised when most of the kids ran for their parents. He dismounted and looked at three young boys that had managed to hold their ground with a grin, “Hello, I’m Hiccup.”

The tallest boy found his voice after a moment, although it trembled, “I’m Erik. This is Mikael and that’s Vino.”

He acknowledged all three boys before gesturing to Toothless, “This is Toothless, he’s the Alpha of the Dragons. That’s his sister, Freyjid.”

“A real Night Fury,” Erik took a tentative step closer, “Was the Commander petting him?”

“He was!” Hiccup told him jovially, “Would you like to pet him?”

No self respecting young Viking was going to back down from a question like that in front of his friends, much less a deck full of adults and other children. Hiccup didn’t say a word about how many emotions Erik’s face flew through in about three seconds, before the young man started moving toward him. The Sergeant took his hand, showing the young boy how to reach for the dragon.

Once they’d been introduced, along with Erik’s two friends, suddenly all the children on the deck were excited to meet the dragons. The adults moved over a little slower, but Hiccup noticed that they seemed more interested in him then they were the fire breathing reptiles. Still, given the number of kids swarming Toothless and Freyjid, he was glad he’d left Tytan on the beach with Kingsbane, Fanghook, and Gustav. 

He was meeting the Hull’s captain and leading crew when one of the youngest girls on deck pulled on his flight suit.

“Who is that?” She whispered, her tiny hand clutching to the threaded seam along Hiccup’s calf.

Turning around to follow her gaze, Hiccup realized that, instead of staying back like he’d told the dragon, Kingsbane had moved to the front of the grounded ship and was staring at them all from over the rails. With an eye roll, the Sergeant raised his arms in an offer to pick the little girl up and was thrilled when she accepted. The surrounding parents parted to let them through as he moved to introduce her and the Bewilderbeast.

When they arrived only a foot away from the two years old Tiny Tooth, Hiccup informed her, “This is Kingsbane.”

The little brunette, who reminded him of Skjall, had one arm around his neck and Hiccup felt her hand tightened in his undershirt. Her bravery was no less than that of Erik, though, because her other hand went out to touch the Bewilderbeast, landing right next to the Sergeant’s own. That seemed to be enough inspiration for the rest of the kids to brave meeting the colossal reptile of the deep.

The novelty of dragons had yet to wear off for Hiccup in six years of working with them, however after giving the kids a moment to adjust to the excitement, he knew there was work to be done. Kneeling down to their level, Hiccup started explaining what he was going to have Kingsbane do, along with the Night Furies and Tytan. The leaders on the ship and parents were quick to gather behind the children, so that everyone would know what was happening and what to do to help.

No one seemed to have any issues with taking orders from Hiccup, despite not knowing him personally or his age. The Haddock suspected that was mostly because he was Grimmel the Grisly’s only son and everyone knew that, one, they needed to make a good first impression on him, and two, there would be hell to pay from the Commander, himself, if they didn’t cooperate. With a few quick instructions, the crew and families that called the Hull home were ready.

Most parents with small children, particularly the kids shorter than the railing of the deck, took off for within the safety of the vessel. Many of the adults who didn’t have children and weren’t part of leadership also took off; they were older, mostly Grimmel’s generation, and they’d seen him work miraculously around dragons for years, albeit in a very different context. Soon, it was just the Hull’s leadership, the children over ten, and their parents who were, more than understandably, cautious with their little ones around a Bewilderbeast.

Hiccup moved to the back of the ship, which was still in the water. It had no business being in such shallows, but it was a start. Getting to the stern, the Sergeant finally whistled for Gustav and the Monstrous Nightmares waiting patiently on the beach, having already explained to the kids that the breed of dragon didn’t like to be crowded. 

Fanghook certainly wouldn’t have cared, but she was used to Berk. Tytan had been trained, but never had his own rider. The big guy would adjust to having people around, just probably not in the span of a day.

The dragging chains had already been prepared, so all Hiccup had to do was hand them to the four dragons.

He was planning to put Toothless and Freyjid on each side of Tytan and Fanghook, so the four could pull the Hull out to sea. Kingsbane would be bringing up the rear to push the vessel from land and back into the water. The young Viking Sergeant prayed to Thor that it would work; he did not want to fail the men, women, and children he’d just met.

Once team Fire and Fury was in position, he returned to the kids still fawning over his little guy at the bow.

“Alright, Kingsbane,” Hiccup got the Bewilderbeast’s attention, “Think you can push this thing back into the water?”

The white and red dragon backed off a bit so that he could take in the ship. The vessel and Kingsbane were about the same size, but that didn’t seem to deter his younger dragon, who pushed at the Hull experimentally a few times.

“Use your tusks, little guy,” Hiccup instructed, “Put them on either side of the ship.”

The Tiny Tooth did as he was told and, once he was in position the Sergeant started to encourage him, “Alright, push now.”

Hiccup had been worried about how he was going to train Kingsbane to fight like a Bewilderbeast. Now that he saw the young dragon doing this task, he’d have to bring Toothless’ adopted son on more aid missions; this was perfect training. He kept yelling to encourage the Tidal class dragon, while signalling for the dragons at the stern to start pulling.

Excited by the action, the kids started to cheer on the dragons. Some ran to the bow to cheer on the flying dragons, while others were screaming Kingsbane’s name. Their efforts weren’t in vain, as the Bewilderbeast roared at the encouragement and began pushing harder than before.

It took about five minutes of combined effort, but the Hull finally started to budge.

Hiccup grabbed Mikael and Vino, who had moved to stand on the railing where they were cheering on the white and red dragon, by the back of their shirts when the two almost toppled over at the first movement. Seeing them almost go, the other kids moved away from the edge, while the Sergeant passed the two young boys off to the terrified looking mothers that had run forward to claim them. 

He passed the pair off with a smile, earning grateful looks from the Viking women.

Overall it took half an hour to get the ship back into waters that were deep enough for the ship and to perform the inspections to make sure no major damage had been done from running aground. Everyone on the deck cheered for Kingsbane and the other dragons. The Furies and Nightmares landed on the deck with Hiccup and Gustav, while Kingsbane swam up to the Hull to receive praise from his rider and the exuberant children and their families.

Tytan was reserved at first, sticking close to Hiccup, but after a moment to observe the dragon seemed to determine that he wanted the same attention the other dragons were receiving. Chuckling at the Monstrous Nightmare being put out, the Sergeant called over Erik, Mikael, and Vino. The three boys had seemed perfectly content to follow him around the Hull during the mission, so he didn’t think they’d mind.

“This is Tytan and he’s feeling left out,” Hiccup told them, “Give him a little love too.”

Once all the dragons had been properly rewarded for their hard work, the Sergeant knew it was time to see how the other teams were doing. It wasn’t until he and Gustav were in the air, finally alone except for their dragons, that Hiccup moved to address the last two days. As crazy as the enthusiastic and energetic Larson could be, there was no doubt that the newly stationed Dragon Rider had handled everything brilliantly.

“Gustav, I couldn’t be more proud of you,” Hiccup told him, “You’ve done an amazing job.”

The seventeen year old blushed, “Thanks, Hiccup. Honestly, I thought you were going to be pissed when you got here.”

“Why?”

“Because I let the ships run aground and you had to come bail them out,” The Larson confessed.

Hiccup laughed, “Gustav, you didn’t let them run aground! They didn’t listen! You know what... “

“After you give instructions to the Hull for getting around Bear Island and to Nadder Isle,” The Sergeant thought about it for a moment, but knew he was making the right choice. The younger Viking needed to see that Hiccup trusted him and that they were setting to rights people’s attitude about Gustav’s age. He’d been running Dragon’s Edge at seventeen and no one had been permitted to ignore him, “I need you to head east. Check on team Eclectic Air’s progress, then check in with Commander Thorston. Tell them I’ll be out that way once I see to Sharp Boulder, alright?”

“Yes, Serge!”

“And take Tytan with you,” Hiccup instructed him, recognizing the lovesick look on the Monstrous Nightmare’s face, “He seems to have taken a liking to Fanghook.”

“You’ve got it, Boss!”

He flew west amid cheers from the Hull and waved to the children as he left with Toothless and Freyjid. The ships that had been beached in this direction had obviously been trying to move together, because they were all stuck within a hundred yards of one another. By the time Hiccup arrived to inspect, Fishlegs had the Quakens completing most of the preparation work, digging ditches to allow them easier paths when it came time to haul the vessels back into the water, while Ruff and Wingnut were cutting away greenery.

There had been small trees and shrubbery that had lodged within several of the ships that needed to be removed first, otherwise they would cause the war ships to sink. The story had been much the same for the eastern ships, so Hiccup was sure that Heather and Windsheer were getting just as much of a workout. Crews from all the ships seemed to already have been properly abashed by the way of humiliation with having run aground, so they were all helping Ruffnut and Fishlegs anyway they could.

Hiccup landed beside the Thorston, “How goes it, Ruff?”

“Well, we’ve got two more ships to clear before we can haul anyone out,” Ruffnut informed him, “But then everyone should be happily on their way. How’s the Hull?”

“On their way to Nadder Isle,” Hiccup smiled, "And how is the youngest Nut doing?”

She smiled and pet the Razorwhip before letting him go back to work, “We had a little trouble with focus earlier, but he’s doing a great job.”

“He’s still young and got that Tiny Tooth energy,” Hiccup reminded her, “I have the same thing with Kingsbane. Although the big baby did seem to like all the kids cheering him on.”

Ruffnut laughed before she settled the Sergeant with a bittersweet look, “I didn’t get the chance to say it earlier, but thank you. Winning the race with Tuff, it meant a lot.”

“Yeah, well, between me and you, it’s only part one of his wedding gift. I found him a new dragon.”

The Thorston was relieved to hear that. She loved Barf and Belch, but there was just something disconcerting about seeing Tuff fly on them alone that she hated with every fiber of her being. With a grin she demanded, “What is it?”

“That last time I took Gothi up to Glacier Island, we stopped at this isle that was surrounded by mist. I found these huge Prickleboggles! Ruff, they’re the size of a Deadly Nadder!”

That was surprising, Ruff knew, as Prickleboggles were usually no bigger than a Fireworm. She instantly knew why Hiccup would have wanted a healing dragon for her brother. Tuff was going to love it.

She grinned at the Sergeant who was about to become her brother in law, “Tuff is going to burst… And what is your second spouse of the day getting?”

Hiccup started, unable to do anything but stare at her for a long moment, before it hit him that Tuffnut had obviously told her the plan. He blushed, “I offered to do it another day…”

“Tuff wasn’t upset, Hiccup,” She rolled her eyes, “He’s the only idiot I know who can go from ‘he’s my arch nemesis’ to ‘he’s my crush’ in only a day.”

That part was true. Tuffnut never did what anyone was expecting of him, though, so Hiccup was just relieved that the Thorston was truly excited about their upcoming caper, “Well, he’s getting Tytan and a dragon metal axe.”

“Your dad is going to kill you.”

“I know.”

“Are you nervous?”

“For Dad? Not really.”

Something in Ruffnut’s face changed. She opened her mouth to say something, her gaze wandering over to Fishlegs then to Wingnut, before the Thorston seemed to talk herself out of whatever she was going to say. Hiccup noticed and encouraged her to share.

“I’m not really worried about marriage or my wedding night,” Ruff confessed, gesturing to Wingnut, “But motherhood… You remember how that went.”

Hiccup smiled, thinking back to when Wingnut had first bonded with Ruffnut as a blind infant on Wing Maiden Island, “I do remember how that went… I remember you having our full support, especially your brother. I remember how much Wingnut loved you and your unique brand of motherhood. And I even remember you saving the day when the Dragon Hunters would have killed him.”

Ruffnut teared up at his account and let the Sergeant pull her into a hug.

He reminded her, “You’re going to be an amazing mother, Ruff. You’re just going to do it your own way.”

“Thanks, Hiccup.”

“I think we’re almost ready to haul them out,” Fishlegs told them, flying over with Meatlug, “Only one more ship left to clear!”

“Great work, Fishlegs,” Hiccup told him, “Don’t haul anyone out until the Commander gets over here, huh? I’ll go now to send him your way.”

“Got it, Serge.”

“Can I tell Fishlegs?” Ruff asked when Hiccup was mounting Toothless.

The green eyed Viking shrugged, “I suppose so. As long as my father doesn’t find out, I don’t care.”

Once they were in the air again, Hiccup flew over to Freyjid. The female Night Fury was getting pretty good with him landing on her mid-flight, so Hiccup decided to try standing on her. Toothless flew around them chipper as ever, acting as both an encouragement and a blockade, forcing his sister to move up and down in the air with the human on her. So much had happened in the last day, the Sergeant was relieved to have a moment to himself.

Everything seemed so perfect at the moment that it was difficult to just enjoy it, rather than focusing on when the other shoe would drop. He was accepting a crown, almost ensuring that the South would mass against them, although he wasn’t delusional enough to think that wouldn’t have happened anyway. The War Lord’s had been preparing to get a true foothold in the North since they dispatched Bludvist.

Still, by this point next year, Hiccup knew Vikings would be heading for war. In all honesty, so would the dragons. They would be fighting to defend the Northern way of life together.

He would be a married King and Chief, perhaps even a father if Frigga blessed him and Astrid. While everything he said to Ruffnut was true, it would have been a lie to say that Hiccup didn’t understand the nervousness that his new sister in law was experiencing. Astrid’s words that morning hadn’t stopped ringing in his ears. The one thing Hiccup never wanted to face was failing his children.

Then again, his kids were going to have more grandparents then they probably should, four fathers, and a mother who could challenge Sif herself to come out victorious. The one thing Hiccup wasn’t going to have to do was lead alone, unlike what he’d seen his father forced to do. Gobber had always been there, trying to help, but the truth was someone had always had to be keeping up with Berk’s heir and someone always had to be Chief. The husbands had been splitting the load everyday for fifteen years, in one way or another.

The Sergeant had to keep reminding himself that he was never in his battles alone. He carried all of his people with him.

When he reached the east side of the island, Hiccup noticed that there were only two ships left beached. Heather was still clearing debris from the farthest ship, while Dagur and Euro were pushing the second war ship, while Eret and Skullcrusher were pulling it from the sky. The smaller battleships meant that the two of them had plenty of muscle between the Eruptodon and Rumblehorn.

Gustav was helping Heather, while Hiccup’s Ergi was flying toward him in his airship with Big Eret. Wanting to catch up with the Commander before he headed west, Hiccup left Toothless to glide toward the incoming Vikings.

Grimmel instantly opened the cage to let Hiccup enter with the two sailors.

Eret the Elder couldn’t believe it, “He was flying without the dragon!”

“I’m well aware,” Grimmel told him calmly, although he couldn’t resist a smirk. Eret didn’t even comment as he was too busy inspecting the flight suit, “How’s Sharp Boulder? The Hull passed by ten minutes ago with Kingsbane. They were able to successfully maneuver the island.”

“Thank Thor,” Hiccup said about the ship, though he shook his head at his young dragon, “He likes the kids giving him attention. He’ll probably trail them all the way to Nadder Isle.”

“They’ll give it happily, from what I saw,” Grimmel told him.

“Well, Fishlegs and Ruffnut have the ships cleared, but they haven’t hauled anyone out,” Hiccup updated the Commander, “I told them to wait for you. With all three Quakens, it should only take twenty minutes to get everyone back in the water.”

“We’ll get moving then,” Grimmel glanced back to the five war ships that were now sailing around the island, while the last was being hauled out, “You need to start heading back if you want to have time to get ready.”

Hiccup knew that was true, “I’ll grab Tytan and go.”

...

On Berk, Valka joined Astrid in her efforts to complete basic training with Brightroar and Ragnar Lothbrok, after checking in on Spitelout and Gertrude in their new elder lodging. They had procured one of Hiccup’s old saddles for Toothless from Gobber and were teaching the pair basic commands in the arena. Heathens, upon hearing that their king had taken to the back of a dragon, had flocked into the space to observe along with many fascinated Berkians.

When Tuffnut arrived to collect Skjall and Astrid, everyone knew that it was time to end training.

Ragnar watched the trio of blondes depart, fighting to cease feeling the knot in his stomach because Astrid swore they were fine. When he’d convinced Estrid to follow him out to the docks the previous night, this never would have been the reaction that he expected from his cousin. It wasn’t a matter of if he’d done the right thing, but if the consequences of his actions would destroy his relationship with Astrid and Hiccup with that one decision.

Instead, the opposite happened.

Looking up from Tuffnut and Astrid as they left with Skjall, Ragnar realized that he was being studied by Hiccup’s mother. The Chieftess, who had spent twenty years living amongst dragons, had been perfectly friendly while they were training with Brightroar, but he hadn’t thought much of her presence. He’d just been trying to keep the Light Fury from dropping him a hundred feet, not wanting to splatter across Berk’s training arena.

Valka gave the young man an appraising look, then demanded, “Walk with me.”

Ragnar and Brightroar quickly obliged, although that was as much to do with their willingness to abide Hiccup’s mother, as it was the fact that Cloudjumper stared at them until they complied. The white dragon and his new rider shared a look. This would be interesting.

They followed Berk’s Chieftess away from the arena, across the dock that acted at the only entry point, and along the shore it connected to at the water’s edge. She was quiet for a long time and both were confused about what was happening. It wasn’t until the roar that was Berk’s current mass of population quieted that the Viking woman finally spoke.

“When I first married Stoick, the one thing I couldn't stand was all the attention; the eyes that were constantly following me everywhere,” Valka confessed, eyes gazing upwards to the massive dragons flying through the sky, “But, since I’ve returned, it seems their eyes are consistently drawn elsewhere.”

Ragnar got the distinct impression that she wasn’t referring to the dragons of Berk alone.

“I would like us to have an honest conversation, but I feel that means I should confess something... I was on the docks last night when you left the feast,” At the King’s wide eyed look of horror, Valka smiled at him in a way that she hoped was gentle, “I don’t say this to scare you. Astrid is the daughter I never got to have. There is nothing I wasn’t prepared to do to protect her either, once I returned and saw what Estrid would do to Skjall once Hiccup and Astrid married.”

The air had been knocked out of him with her admittance, but Stoick’s wife didn’t seem to mind. They carried on walking away from the village with Cloudjumper and Brightroar trailing behind them. The two dragons seemed to be similar in ages, as they didn’t have as much energy as Ragnar saw in dragons like Hiccup’s Toothless, but they didn’t seem to be near retirement age either; he’d admit to not knowing much about dragon life expectancy.

Finally his gaze returned to Valka, “Alright. Why did you want to talk to me?”

“This last year I’ve realized how wrong I was to not come back, there is no excuse for that. I was afraid of people’s reaction to me flying in on a dragon and I let it cost me my son, although I’ve sworn never to make the same mistake again.”

Ragnar had gotten a letter from Astrid when Valka returned and after the Battle for Berk. She’d been so excited to share all that she’d learned about Hiccup’s mother and how excited both Haddock men had been at the Chieftess’ return. He could admit that he’d been enraged with the woman after what he’d seen Hiccup suffer on Berk the summer he’d been here. In this moment the Lothbrok’s feelings were dimmed but not alleviated.

“All year it’s been my mission to learn about my family’s lives in the twenty years that I was with the dragons,” Valka scoffed, “Stories of Stoick are never ending, Gobber is in most of them, as is he in most of the stories of Hiccup’s childhood or since Hiccup entered Dragon Training.”

“Then what do you need me for?”

She sat down among a group of rocks on a beach that Ragnar didn’t recognize. The stones around the edge were smoothed to perfection for sitting, but the coast was jagged and treacherous from what he could spot among the sea at low tide, “I’ve run into a bit of a blank around the time when Hiccup was between ten and fourteen. One would think he didn’t exist on Berk between his childhood and him starting Dragon Training.”

“That’s certainly how they treated him,” Ragnar’s voice dropped into a hiss and his face twisted into something fierce as he dropped onto the rock next to Valka.

“Tell me.”

There was something odd to being given an order after being King for several years, but it was more tender than anything his late father had ever commanded. Processing the odd sensation, Ragnar moved to comply, “He was brilliant. The things he could make; war machines, farming…”

He laughed as he recalled, “There was this one idea he had to bring running water into homes! I never knew how he thought of some of it, but it was ingenious.”

Valka couldn’t help but smile as his face shone with utter delight.

“No one on Berk would listen to him though. He only talked about Stoick one… No, that’s a lie. He couldn’t stop talking about Stoick the Vast. I swear to the gods, Hiccup thought his father was Odin, himself, wandering the seas searching for the dragon’s nest. At the same time…” He trailed off, his gaze moving back toward the village.

Following his line of sight, Valka could still see their home sitting atop the mighty hill that was Berk’s peak. She decided to acknowledge what a foreigner probably felt that he couldn’t, “You came to Berk when Stoick and Hiccup were at the worst point in their relationship. Right before Toothless came into their lives.”

“He talked about the problems, once. How he didn’t even know if he was Berk’s heir, how he thought about going south to find his Ergi to get the truth, because the Chief wouldn’t talk about it. I offered to take him with me and my tribe, to go with him to find Berk’s fleet; after he’d talk about life on Berk, I thought he would go,” Ragnar confessed with a blush.

Grimmel had told her about Tuffnut’s tale of Hiccup’s first kiss. Now, having a frame for what led to the proposition and theft, Valka didn’t know who to feel for, so she just felt for all three boys. Tuffnut Thorston seemed to have been wandering his entire life, although he’d never been lost a day. Hiccup had been stuck and unable to wander, but at a point where he’d never felt so lost before in his life. And Ragnar had been born into wandering, but couldn’t have the one thing he wanted. They had been a perfect storm that summer.

The Heathen sighed, “But it wasn’t meant to be. I… Anyway, we spent seven years apart. Those two months were a short span of time compared to twenty years. I can’t tell you much more.”

“It’s more than anyone else offered,” Valka encouraged him, “Did the two of you spend all of your time in the forge then?”

“No. When I wasn’t with the Hoffersons, Hiccup was expected to entertain me. We used to wander the island, mostly the mountains and glacier; it was the first time I’d ever seen dragons for myself.”

“Did you hunt them?”

“I didn’t know how,” Ragnar laughed, “We’d go around watching them though, and we talked a lot. That was the summer Hiccup’s voice started to change.”

Valka was surprised at that. Stoick had told her months ago that Hiccup’s voice never really changed, just like he’d never developed a Berkian accent. She told the newest dragon rider as much.

“Yes, it did. Hiccup just freaked out over it and he’d always been good at impressions, so he made it sound like he always had,” Ragnar informed the Chieftess.

Hiccup was exceptionally good at dragon calls. It actually made sense that he was able to manipulate his own voice in a unique way. His mother was just surprised and curious as to why it changing scared him so.

The King of the Heathens chuckled, “I’d been here for about a week and we were up on the glacier. He was explaining this treasure that the Chief had been obsessed with finding.”

“The treasure of Hamish the First,” Valka told him, shaking her head. Then she giggled, “I’ve been told Hiccup found it several years ago.”

“Really?” Ragnar was surprised, “Astrid never mentioned that.”

Astrid had told her that she wasn’t really free to write Ragnar until after the Viking maiden got free of her mother and went to Dragon’s Edge. Given what Valka knew the King had done for his cousin the night before, there didn’t seem to be anything wrong with sharing that fact with the man. They chatted for a little bit about the adventures that the Dragon Riders went on prior to their departure for the outpost. 

Valka still couldn’t believe that Stoick let Hiccup get into brawls with his cousin and uncle.  _ Men. _

“Well, anyway, he was telling me all about it,” Ragnar continued, “When his voice cracked. We were fourteen and didn’t think anything about it; he popped some ice and went to keep telling me the story. His voice though, it changed to this deep and growly baritone as he kept going.”

The king laughed as he remembered, “He freaked out because it sounded so much like Stoick. At first it was just the once, but over the next two months it kept happening. More and more his voice changed and, usually when he got angry or when he was singing, he even started having that famed Berkain accent.”

Valka grinned, “Hiccup told me all year that he couldn’t sing a lick! Certainly didn’t look that way last night.”

“He can sing!” Ragnar insisted, “He just sounds like his Dad when he does it. That’s why he was thrilled when the group gathered round last night, no one could hear just him.”

“So why didn’t he just let his voice change?”

Ragnar shrugged, “He and Stoick were in a bad place and the Chief was gone before the change started. I don’t think he wanted to sound different when his old man came back, but he never said as much.”

“Huh,” Valka looked up to check the time, “We should be heading back. I’m sure Hiccup’s team is back. There’s only half an hour before the services start.”

The pair moved back to the village quickly. 

Ragnar felt better about Hiccup’s mother in general. Knowing that she was desperate to know everything, the good and the bad, about her son’s life made her seem more human. The woman talking to him about Berk when Hiccup was a baby, and her struggles as a Chieftess, also helped put some things into perspective. It was hard to imagine a Berk without Stoick the Vast, but it had been a reality after his wife was taken.

The Heathen was trying to picture a Berk whose people had lost their Chieftess, their fleet, and so many men to the armies demanded by the War Lords. To top it all off Stoick spent every moment of the warm months on the ships he had left looking for Valka from the time she was taken until Grimmel came back a couple years later. Berk had been desperate and getting ready for that first winter when the woman first flew Cloudjumper back.

With Stoick gone and Spitelout Jorgenson struggling to maintain the village and two toddlers, by himself and without being a Haddock, reactions could have easily been violent.

He would never be at ease with the way Hiccup had been treated when he was younger, but he understood the people’s plight a bit more. Stoick had sworn to never taking another wife, so his sole heir had been Berk’s only future as well. The population had never been hateful or uncaring toward Hiccup, if anything they had followed Stoick’s lead and been massively overprotective of their future Chief; until the Viking’s coming out party at fifteen, at least.

They shared a look when it was easy to hear Stoick’s voice from the busy area at the base of Berk’s main hill. Ragnar waved goodbye to Valka, needing to go and find his mother to get ready for his “aunt’s” services. The Chieftess moved to see what had her husband’s fur in a twist.

“Where is he!?” Stoick shouted just as his wife walked into the forge, “He should have been back hours ago.”

“Well, he came by earlier to get his armor and…” Gobber froze for just a moment where he was getting washed up for the night’s events, “I’m sure that means he’ll be on time.”

Valka just wandered over to where Grimmel and Spitelout were playing Maces and Talons. It looked to her like the returning Commander was getting his backside handed to him by the Jorgenson. She’d have to remind her returning husband and their son that she wanted to see them play a match sometime.

“He’s probably out on that gods forsaken spit of coast!”

“If you’re referring to the Undockable Shore, I just came from there,” Valka told him, sharing a grin with her best friends before they returned to playing, “I was the only Haddock in sight.”

“First the race, now this,” Stoick muttered, looking through the desk Hiccup hadn’t used in years for clues, “He can’t keep up with these disappearing acts! I told him to be…”

“Present and presentable from planning to Grand Feast. We know, Chief. But he’s been at the forge, the race, the springs and on a mission…” Gobber had a thought, “Actually, he might have had to take another wash. We weren’t expecting the fleet to need assistance today!”

Stoick seemed to find the idea plausible, “Maybe… We have enough time to check before we have to get out to Valhalla’s Verge.”

It wasn’t until the scarlet Viking and his blacksmith disappeared to go search for the Dragon Riders that Spitelout finally moved to win his game. While the Commander cursed and looked over where he’d gone wrong, the Jorgenson elder stood with a stretch, “Well, now that temper tantrum is over, we may as well go collect the kids. Come on, Grim!”

Grimmel and Valka looked at one another stunned, before both took off out of the forge to catch up with the shorter Viking. The Chieftess arched a brow at her best friend, “You know where they are?”

“You let Stoick yell for over an hour!” Grimmel said. His husband had been shouting since he got back from checking in on the whole fleet and scaring some regard into his captains. Hiccup and the other riders had left an hour before he got back and he’d had no clue where their son went after collecting his armor and Lothbrok’s gift from Gobber. He’d only taken the opportunity to tell his husband off about Spitelout’s relationship with their son, before the Jorgenson found them in the forge; it had helped that Gobber backed him up.

“He’s been yelling for twenty years,” Spitelout waved them off, moving steadily up the hill, “What’s one more round? It’s Hiccup’s wedding day. No reason to let Stoick drive him up a wall.”

“Oh, I don’t think it’s going to be Hiccup going up the wall tonight,” Grimmel commented, earning funny looks from his friend, “Trust me, you’ll know when it happens.”

The councilman shrugged as they walked past the last row of homes before his family’s ancestral abode, “Fine. Remember when you asked me what I was doing for the last twenty years besides fishing?”

Grimmel nodded, confused by the fact that they were arriving on his friend’s doorstep. He’d been curious about Spitelout’s life, knowing that even though the Jorgensons were multigenerational fishermen, the man would have had to get into more than fishing out on the Undockable Shore for two decades. That curiosity didn’t explain what his friend was talking about.

Spitelout opened the door to his old house without knocking, “Well, here’s your answer.”

The older Viking trio looked into the house to see that Hiccup, all five of his original Dragon Riders, Eret, the Berserkers, and Mala were all strone around the house. Heather was sitting on her new husband’s lap at the main room’s only table, while Hiccup and Astrid mirrored them in the next seat, and Fishlegs and Ruffnut did the same. Eret was standing a few feet from the table, tossing magic mushrooms to Hiccup and Snotlout, while Dagur was sitting in a chair by the fireplace.

Mala, who was overdue now, was laying out on a bench next to him as Tuffnut was examining her stomach.

The party looked terrified for half a second, before realizing that Stoick wasn’t with them.

“For twenty years, I’ve been dealing with all the kids' problems when Gobber wasn’t,” Spitelout muttered before heading into the house, “What in the world are you lot up to?”

“Well, Tuffnut is trying to make me go into labor,” Mala sighed, “I thought twins were notorious for coming early?”

“They are,” Tuff shrugged, “But yours don’t seem to be in any hurry.”

“The boys want to be born on Berserker Island,” Dagur said for the hundredth time.

“The girls are waiting to be born at Defenders of the Wing!” Mala countered.

The Dragon Riders and Heather, who counted as one of them to ask any of the others, all rolled their eyes. The couple had been having the same debate for nine months. Everyone in the Archipelago was ready for their children to be born, so the dispute could end.

Hiccup changed the subject, “I’m avoiding Dad. His neurotic need to keep an eye on me has finally kicked in.”

“Can’t wait to see how tonight goes,” Astrid commented. Stoick was going to be a real joy when he saw Hiccup in the Conquest Circle once again, “We snuck away from Gothi and preparations.”

“The one limitation of the stick!” Tuffnut declared, “It’s short range!”

“You’ll be dead from her wrath alone,” Snotlout predicted, before his eyes sought out his father and the younger Jorgenson gestured to Hiccup, “He had the audacity to knock before coming in.”

Grimmel noted that Spitelout looked just as affronted as his son sounded.

The Jorgenson elder scowled in the Sergeant’s direction, “Since when do you knock before entering this house?”

Hiccup rolled his eyes and threw a magic mushroom at Snotlout’s head. It didn’t have the desired effect as the shorter Viking only caught it in his mouth and offered his gratitude. The brunette just shrugged, “Well, it seemed only right, since it’s Snotlout’s house now. I didn’t want to just intrude.”

Both Jorgensons rolled their eyes. Snotlout assured his father that he’d already told the Sergeant to never do such a thing again. Spitelout walked over to ruffle the hair of Berk’s future Chief.

Grimmel smiled, “Heartwarming as this huddle is, if we’re late Stoick is going to lose his mind. Tuffnut, your grandmother will already be waiting on you. Move it.”

The younger Thorston took off with a curse, dragging Astrid with him.

Valka shook her head as they all filed out of the house, “I cannot believe that you are all hiding out. You’d think the village was Ragnarok itself! Where are your dragons?”

“Exploring the island. There was no room inside and no reason to keep them cooped up,” Hiccup offered.

Grimmel pulled out a handkerchief and swiped it over Hiccup’s insignia as the party walked toward Valhalla’s Verge, “Who has Astrid asked to shoot with her?”

Eret answered, “Me, Hiccup, and Ragnar are following her and Aaron. Skjall hasn’t learned archery yet.”

“Mom is too,” Snotlout put in.

Everyone in the party grew grim as they got closer to Valhalla’s Verge. The coast was where all Berkain funerals took place and remarked on for the black sand that was unique only to that particular part of the shore. The sight never failed to put everyone into a solemn mood as they arrived at the start of sunset.

Most of the Hofferson clan was there, as well as the heads of other prominent families. More Heathens were present then one would expect, given the relation of their previous Queen and Estrid. Stoick and Gobber had beaten them there and the larger Viking was preparing to give the eulogy.

The Chief was barely able to stop an eye roll at his son’s arrival with his other spouses and he could tell by the tightening around Hiccup’s mouth that the boy was fighting a grin. They both managed to stay stone faced but their matching green eyes had an entire conversation laced with irritation and mischief. Knowing the Sergeant was there and no good would come from harping on the boy’s previous location, Stoick turned to Gothi, who was finishing the rite blessings.

Tuffnut handed out the ceremonial bows to the elected archers.

Astrid had never wanted a ceremony over with so much in her life. She didn’t know what to do with her father’s grief that no part of her shared and was grateful for her Aunt Alfhild managing him. Ragnar stayed close to her from the moment Tuff got them there, but clutching his hand in hers could only do so much when she had to play the part. Skjall was in the Heathen’s other arm, having been lifted onto his hip by the time Astrid arrived.

Valka quickly took the little Hofferson and stepped back to the crowd of mourners behind the archers. Gobber, Grimmel, and Spitlout all joined her, along with the Dragon Riders and visitors not shooting for Estrid’s final ship. Alfhild stepped back from her brother only when the Chief of Berk moved to speak, backing away to join the Chieftess and her niece.

Stoick’s speech was nice, as he discussed meeting Estrid and returning with her to Berk. Astrid was standing in the line of archers, nestled between her father, who started the train, and Hiccup on her other side. Ragnar had taken the other spot next to the Sergeant and Gertrude was next to him, while Eret finished the group. The maiden Hofferson didn’t hear everything that Stoick was saying, as she was too busy praying for him to make it brief, but when he cited her mother as giving him the daughter the Chief had always wanted, it penetrated her thoughts.

Unable to fight the tears, Astrid was glad that something could make her feel something today, and aid her in looking the part of the grieving daughter.

When the Chief finished, Gothi surprised everyone by grabbing Tuffnut by the ear and ordering him to complete the final prayer with her stick.

The younger Thorston High Priest looked resistant for several moments and a slight scuffle evolved. Astrid was grateful that she had her back to the gathered crowd because she couldn’t stop a grin from breaking over her face. The Haddock men among the funeral faction couldn’t resist smirks either, especially when Gothi didn’t give a hoot about it being Tuffnut’s wedding day and whacked him into position with her staff.

Tuffnut started the final prayer amid shooting a glare at Ragnar Lothbrok's snickering, while his grandmother began lighting the Archer's arrows. Stoick, Gobber, and Spitelout sent the ship into the water and Aaron Hofferson loosed the first arrow. Once all the archers had hit their mark, Tuff finished the last part of the prayer.

Almost immediately the more distant members of the Hofferson clan began to leave the Verge. Most probably wouldn't have even come, but Astrid's marriage the night before had elevated the status of House Hofferson and no one wanted to be accused of impropriety. Soon, even those closely related to Aaron also began to file away.

Valka and Gobber left once most mourners had disappeared, taking Skjall with them, while Grimmel and the rest of the Thorstons, as well the Jorgensons and Ingermans trailed right behind. Eret and Gertrude slipped away from the archers as well, leaving Hiccup to summon his father away when he realized that Ragnar's gaze was locked onto his cousin.

Soon it was just the two of Vikings standing shoulder to shoulder on black sand as Estrid's final ship burned. The Heathen didn't know what to say but Astrid didn't seem to want him gone either. His mother had disappeared with Valka and their tribe, so his time to make an escape was gone with them anyway.

The sight of her greatest terror and tormentor's ship burning on the water was… It felt like when Toothless had stopped spinning and she had opened her eyes to the sky during that first flight. It was freedom and choice being granted to her life, because there wasn't a need to put Skjall's welfare before her own, as if her baby sister was one of the children that she didn't have yet.

Reaching out she took her big brother's hand and held it, their gazes still locked on the mix of fire and flood. Astrid had meant it with her whole heart that there was nothing to set to rights between them. However, it only struck the maiden at that moment what the Heathen King had given to her.

"Thank you."

Heathens didn't startle, but something certainly made Ragnar jump at the smaller Vikings words. It took his mind a moment to put the day together and truly accept what his cousin was saying to him. With a small smile he offered, "You're welcome."

...

Valhalla Verge was separated from the rest of Berk by a small grove of trees. As Stoick emerged with his son from the path that led to the black coast, it was easy to shake off their melancholy feelings. Immediately upon their emergence, the rest of the village's excitement was contagious and helped pull everyone back to the celebration happening all over the island.

After all, Berk's heir was about to have his first formal wedding.

Stoick eyed his son as Tuffnut took off with a shout and Ruffnut to go change from his mourning attire into his fireproof armor. As the other Thorstons trailed after him, even Gothi was unable to keep from smiling at her favorite grandson and his excitement. As Grimmnut took off with his mother, Grimmel looked positively wrecked about who to follow as his gaze cut between Tuff and back to Hiccup. Luckily his son just waved the Commander off and Stoick, after receiving a threatening look from his lover, also raised a hand in assurance that he wouldn't let the boy wed until they all got a moment alone with him.

"Nervous?" Stoick asked the Sergeant as they moved back toward home. Hiccup didn't need to change, but everyone was going to want a moment with him, so their home had seemed like the best option.

"Not in the slightest," Hiccup confessed, "I've already done it once, right?"

The Chief snorted, "Three spouses in one season, I cannot believe you."

The Sergeant couldn't resist, "I don't know, seems a little like lowballing it. Think I'll go for four."

Rolling his eyes, Stoick reminded the future King, "It's not a competition, Hiccup!"

"I know that!" Hiccup declared, telling his father sincerely, "I wouldn't marry for anything but love anyway. It's what makes life worth all the losses, right?"

With a grin the larger Viking slung an arm around his son, "Careful! I might actually think you listen to me when I tell you things!"

“I always listen to you,” Hiccup said before remembering how he came about shooting down Toothless, and the arena, and Viggo, and Bludvist, “Alright, sometimes I go my own way… But we never would have found Mom if I had listened to you!”

“I’ll allow you that one,” Stoick snorted, “Who would you even marry anyway? Gustav?”

“I’m sure Heather would share Snotlout,” Hiccup teased him.

That earned him a glare from the Chief, “Don’t threaten me, boy!”

The younger Haddock laughed, “Yeah, we’ll leave marrying into the Jorgensons to the grandkids. Talk about a one way trip to Valhalla!”

“For me or the kids?”

“I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”

Cheers were prominent and echoing as the father and son moved up the hill to their home. Hiccup knew that his mother and Gobber were getting things ready in the Great Hall, so he was thrilled when Fishlegs, Snotlout, and Dagur were waiting outside the front door to escort him through his preparations; even if those preparations were mostly drinking and smoking something to loosen them up. Eret joined them from the Great Hall, expressing that Gobber was driving everyone mad trying to make the night perfect.

Seeing someone that should be with them wandering away from the village proper altogether, Stoick decided to go after them, “I’m going to collect your mother and Gobber; might even try to find our wayward dragons. We’ll come collect you when it’s time.”

As the young warriors drug Hiccup inside for a private celebration, Stoick reminded the young Vikings to eat plenty of food with their spirits. He wasn’t going to have them falling all over themselves during the ceremony. The previous night had been highly moderated because the kids had the race this morning; now was their true night to celebrate.

It didn’t matter that Hiccup’s wayward parent had disappeared from sight, the Chief knew without a doubt where the stubborn pain in the ass was heading. Trudging through the village, it was easier than usual to get away, telling everyone that he was looking for the dragons for Hiccup. No one wanted the wedding to be put off because a certain Night Fury was in absentia. 

Stoick wasn’t particularly worried. He’d spotted Freyjid in the woods near the house, so he was sure that Hiccup could send her to find her brother later, if necessary. If the alpha’s sister couldn’t find him, then the Haddock also had the greatest Night Fury tracker in humanity for a husband. There was plenty of time.

Walking along the coast, the village was a vibrant roar even as he moved farther out. For twenty years moving this far away from Berk proper would have meant blessed silence, but not today. Everything and everyone was in a state of exuberance and it was exciting. This time yesterday, Stoick had been struggling through his and Hiccup’s conversation about Ragnar Lothbrok and the summer before Toothless.

He wanted to join in the celebrations with the rest of Berk, but that conversation with his son had shown him that he’d wronged someone and needed to make it right first. Grimmel had jumped in to lead that proverbial mob earlier today as well.

Trailing along the coast, it was no surprise when Thornado joined him. Bing, Bam, and Boom were all grown now and had settled on Offshoot Isle quite happily under Tytan, meaning that the older dragon was free to help him police the youth of Berk. The Chief had adored Skullcrusher, there was no doubt about it, but the much younger dragon belonged with Eret and Thornado with himself; he and the Thunderdrum were in similar life stages.

Ever since he’d taken that beating from the Dragon Hunters, Stoick could admit that he’d been feeling his age. Hiccup may not have been ready to take up the mantle of Chief, not with him on his deathbed, but the boy hadn’t stopped living. Once he did recover, it was obvious that the Sergeant was ready. 

The previous year had been planned so perfectly before Bludvist!

Now, as Hiccup prepared himself to take on even more responsibility, moving toward three spouses, Chiefdom, Kingship, and perhaps fatherhood, the truth was that he would need all the support he could get. It wasn’t that Stoick thought his son would be denied that support from any of his parents, but fear had stopped the older Haddock from having this conversation for far too long.

When a throat cleared behind him, Spitelout startled and pulled away from Kingstail, the Deadly Nadder having been receiving scratches happily. The dragon didn’t seem to be overly concerned, chirping before prancing off toward the newcomer, so his rider didn't think too much about it; one of the kids always needed something. Turning to find that Stoick the Vast was standing on the Undockable Shore?

The Jorgenson looked around to make sure that he was on the right beach, “What are you doing here?”

“I came to get you,” Stoick told him, moving over toward the large rock closest to the Jorgenson elder, “Spitelout, why do we not get along?”

“Are you drunk?”

The Chief snorted, “No and I should look into that. If there were ever a day to be spirited…”

Spitelout and Kingstail shared a look, but the human finally moved to answer the question, “I… You wanted me to stay out of the way and I always wanted to put myself in the middle of everything.”

“Hmm,” Stoick thought about that answer for a minute.

Unsure of what in Odin’s name was happening, the Jorgenson started to clarify, “It’s been different, we’ve been different, since the storehouse. Chief…”

“It was never that I didn’t want you involved on principle,” The larger man stroked his beard, trying to find the nerve to confess decades of his greatest fear. He reminded himself that either Ragnarok or Hiccup’s wedding was a breath away. This should have been sorted eighteen years ago when Grimmel told them to do so on the docks, but Stoick had chosen a bandage over healing, wanting to ignore his own inadequacies, “Ever since you threatened to take Hiccup…”

“Oh curse it all, Chief! I never wanted to take Hiccup from you!” Spitelout shouted. This was supposed to be over decades ago, “I was desperate to snap you out of it! We all were. He was almost three and calling me ‘Dad’ and wouldn’t have recognized you if you were standing in front of him. We need you back on Berk! I...”

“You were right.”

They stared at each other for a long time after that. One man with tears in his eyes and the other startled, but they stared all the same. Both men’s dragons started pacing, unsure of the tension that was suddenly blanketing them.

Stoick shuddered as he thought back to the first couple of years after Valka was taken, “I wasn’t fulfilling my lot; not as a Chief, not as a father… I was little better than an outcast, sailing the seas in desperation. If I hadn’t needed to bring Estrid back to Berk with Aaron, I wouldn’t have even been here that winter. And I never even had the decency to say thank you for all that you’d done after our fight.”

Spitelout slowly moved to perch against the small tree that stood against the polished rocks, unable to do more than listen as the Chief continued.

“It wasn’t because of my pride though, it wasn’t. Everytime you corrected me after that fight, every time you had an idea that was so much better than my own… All I could think was that you were two seconds from finding me wanting and taking Hiccup back to your house,” Several tears fell from the mountain of a Viking and Spitelout flinched at the sight, “The first time it happened, it was over something dumb; I don’t even remember what it was anymore. I just remember that I couldn’t even breathe until I got back to the house and Hiccup was still there asleep.”

“Chief…”

Stoick scoffed, wiping the tears from his face, “Then he got older and he was always running to you when we had problems. I remember when he was thirteen and I caught him going to your house the first time. We’d had it out over my refusal to talk about Grimmel and the rumors about who his father was…”

“Dumbest pile of yak dung I’d ever heard in my life,” Spitelout muttered, “Those Haddock green eyes had been able to put grown Vikings in their place since he was ten!”

That made the Chief smile, but he kept going anyway, “I had walked out the front door and stopped a few feet away; I’d been heading for the forge. It hit me that I was being a right twat over the whole thing and, I swear, I was about to go back in and apologize. Then, I heard the back door open and there was Hiccup stomping down to your house.”

“We just stared at each other,” The Hooligan Chief kicked at a stray rock by his feet, “After a moment all the anger just drained from him and… He just looked so defeated, stalking through your back door without so much as a knock. I heard yelling when the door opened, something about the regatta, and then Snotlout shouted, ‘Thank Thor, Hiccup! Explain to Mom that…’ before the door closed. Not ‘explain to my mother,’ just ‘Mom’. It felt like I’d been kicked in the gut.”

Spitelout sighed, pushing off the tree before pulling a small bundle from the hollow within it. He trudged over to Stoick, unwrapping the magic mushrooms inside and offering them to the other Viking. Although the other man accepted, at his raised eyebrow the Jorgenson explained, “Tuff’s secret stash. Doesn’t think anyone but Hiccup knows where they are.”

“How did you find out?”

Popping a couple into his mouth as well, the Councillor shrugged, “Who do you think hollowed out the tree?”

They chuckled before staring out at the still setting sun beyond the horizon.

It took several minutes, but Spitelout finally sighed, “It never even crossed my mind to take Hiccup, not once after you came back. He was your son and worshipped the ground you walked on, Stoick. I just wanted to be part of your lives… Losing Grim to the fleet felt as final as losing Valka to Valhalla and, eventually, it seemed like being your adversary was the only chance I got to be there for him.”

“I’m so sorry, Spitelout,” Stoick told him, “For not saying all of this when Grimmel told us to get our acts together, for keeping you at arms length in the Council… I’m sorry. You’ve been as much a parent to Hiccup as me, or Gobber; probably even more so than Valka or Grim.”

“Just don’t say that in front of Commander Pale Poacher, I value my hide,” The Jorgenson Elder requested.

“Fair,” The Chief snorted, “Come back to the house with me? See him before he gets married? Somebody has to help me pull Gobber away from event planning.”

“Alright,” Spitelout agreed, “Let’s go get our boy married… again.”

Splitting the rest of the mushrooms both started moving back toward the village with their dragons. With a roll of his eyes Stoick scoffed, “Three spouses in one season, I cannot believe him!”

The Jorgenson laughed, “Takes after his daddy that one!”

“It’s not a competition,” The larger Viking emphasized, “Having as many spouses as I do in two months. Thor has slower seasons!”

“That Haddock virility is too much for us other mere Vikings, aye Chief?!”

Stoick shook his head as they moved away from the Undockable shore, “Grimmel is never going to let me live this down. I knew he was going to be insufferable when he confessed to being back on Berk after the Battle of the Red Death, but this is ridiculous.”

Freezing to the sand, Spitelout stared at Stoick. The Chief turned to look at him when he realized that the other Viking was no longer following and the newly donned Elder wasn’t sure if he was making the right choice, but if Stoick could bare the truth to him, then he owed his… his friend that same courtesy. Taking a deep breath, Spitelout confessed, “I sent for Grimmel after the arena, not Gobber.”

Realizing that their conversation had once again taken a turn toward the serious, Stoick thought back to where Berk had been six years ago, “How?”

“I always had an emergency channel to Grim, he designed it and told me to activate it only if you or Hiccup were in real trouble,” Spitelout sighed, “After the arena, when Gobber and I realized Hiccup had enough control to ride Toothless, then you came down and wouldn’t talk to him… It wasn’t about taking Hiccup, Chief. I said I’d never considered it after our fight and I meant that!”

Stoick could tell from the conviction in his voice that Spitelout meant that. He nodded, not trusting his voice.

“But, if you wouldn’t talk to Gobber, I didn’t stand a chance in Helheim and Hiccup was only fifteen. I sent for him before we set sail,” Spitelout released a huff, “We’d been looking for the nest for years, even with Toothless I wasn’t expecting us to find it, and then…”

Jorgenson trailed off and Stoick gave a dark laugh, though it cracked somewhere in the middle, “And then, indeed… What, err… When did… How…”

Spitelout took pity on the Chief, “When Hiccup woke up and the Dragon Riders took off from Berk on their team that first time, I watched with you and Gobber for a while. Finally, it only made sense to go get Gertrude from the house; I knew she’d want to see the boys. Turns out she’d already been watching from down at the Hofferson house, but when I walked inside, there was Grimmel the Grisly, watching his son from my window.”

Staring up toward the sky, Stoick smiled at catching sight of Toothless and Snowfall heading off toward his house. Freyjid, Stormfly, and Meatlug were just behind them, while the rest of the team’s dragons were forming a small cluster trailing the first group. Looking back to Spitelout he finally asked, “And then?”

“He demanded to know everything, from the arena to Hiccup waking up,” The smaller Viking shrugged, “I asked if he was going to talk to you, but after you let Hiccup ride Toothless, he muttered that he’d wait for you to tell him all of it yourself, then departed for the fleet.”

Stoick had only told his husband everything in bits and pieces. Knowing that Grimmel had already known everything, except for what happened between him and Hiccup in the house, he felt like a fool. Still, at least he knew now, “Thank you, Spitelout. You did the right thing.”

...

Grimmel the Grisly had left his nephew with the rest of the Thorston Family just before nightfall. They were getting ready to make for the Great Hall, Ruff was crying, and the Commander was not going to miss this opportunity to be with his son and spouses. Moving toward the house, he wasn’t sure if the rest of his family would already have found their way to Stoick and Hiccup.

On the way through the main village toward Berk’s hill, he spotted a particular blonde head that peaked his interest. Despite his best efforts, there hadn’t been a chance to speak with his son’s wife and first spouse since his return to their island. Sure that she was heading up to the house and Hiccup, he jogged to catch up with her.

“Hello, Astrid.”

The General started at the unfamiliar voice calling out for her. Turning to realize that it was The Night Fury Killer himself, her breath caught and she froze, having no idea what to say. They stared at one another for a moment, before Astrid shook herself out of her own awe at his presence.

“Commander Thorston, hello,” She blushed.

The silver Viking chuckled, getting the distinct impression that not just anyone earned this maiden’s admiration, or got to see her flustered. Grimmel offered his arm, “Call me Grimmel. You are my daughter in law, after all.”

Astrid took his arm with what was probably too much enthusiasm, but no one under thirty on Berk would blame her. She hadn’t been joking with Hiccup concerning her remark about all of Berk’s children worshipping the Pale Poacher, Night Fury Killer, and Commander of Berk’s Fleet, after the man left their home for the South, “How has your return to Berk treated you?”

For all everyone had fawned over him since yesterday, that was the first time someone asked about his reaction to home. Grimmel thought about it for a moment, looking around as they moved up the hill, “So much has changed, but it’s still home. I find myself realizing that I, perhaps, didn’t realize how much it was missed.”

“Hiccup is so ecstatic to have you back,” Astrid smiled, “Yesterday was magical for him.”

“As it should have been, it was his wedding day afterall.”

She blushed, “I cannot believe I did that. I don’t think anyone besides Tuffnut could have talked me into it.”

Grimmel chuckled, “And his third marriage? Who’s idea can that be attributed to?”

“Well, it was mine initially, but it’s Tuff’s plan,” Astrid confessed, “Hiccup’s concerned it’s not grand enough.”

That pulled a laugh from the Commander as his house came into view, “Really? Well, I’m sure he’ll come up with something. My son does not seem to be outdone easily.”

The General just grinned.

“For what it’s worth, Astrid, I am looking forward to getting to know you,” Grimmel told her, “You are going to make a formidable Chieftess of Berk and a grand Queen of the Vikings.”

Struck for a moment by the compliment, she finally offered, “Thank you, Commander.”

Their moment was broken by the sound of cheers and hollers coming from inside the house. Rolling his eyes, Grimmel knew instantly that it was only Hiccup and his warrior friends inside. Opening the door, they found Dagur and Eret engaged in an arm wrestling match, while Hiccup, Fishlegs, and Snotlout cheered from around the table. Apparently Gustav had been summoned from Bear Isle and invited to join the older Vikings to spend this time with Hiccup; Grimmel suspected that was Little Eret’s doing.

Stepping into the house, Grimmel called their attention to him, as soon as his nephew won, “Joyous as this little swaray is, my spouses will be on the way and we would like a moment alone with our son.”

“Of course, Uncle Grimmel,” Dagur jumped up, thumbing in the direction of the door, “Let’s haul out, boys! Brother, best of luck. I hope you live to see all of your marriages through.”

Hiccup laughed, hugging all of his friends, “No faith in me to survive the old man? I brought a Night Fury home!”

Snotlout snorted, stealing one last inhale from Hiccup’s lit pipe, “This is gonna be worse!”

Astrid giggled, before calling for Eret to wait for her as the blacksmith made for the Great Hall. She kissed Hiccup quickly, assuring him that everything was going to be great, before declaring that she was going to go see Tuffnut before the wedding.

Grimmel felt bad for his previous wording and grabbed her wrist when the Viking maiden went to pass by him, “That dismissal wasn’t of you.”

Surprised at being stopped, Astrid could admit that his concern was touching. She kissed the Commander’s cheek with a smile, “I know, but he’ll want a moment with the four of you.”

The young band of Vikings quickly cleared out to head for the Great Hall, leaving Hiccup and Grimmel alone. After a moment of staring at one another, the older man moved over to the fireplace and the small table set up with a Maces and Talons set on the bench before it. Hiccup joined him a moment later and, honestly, just playing in silence was more rewarding than trying to force a conversation.

This sort of thing was what Grimmel had missed most in all the years that he’d been kept away from Berk. He’d played this game with Little Eret a couple of times, trying to encourage the young trapper to use his head as much as the boy had his looks and strength, but something always felt wrong. Playing with Hiccup was more of a challenge, certainly, although the young Sergeant wasn’t as brutal a player as Spitelout Jorgenson.

Finally he asked, “Nervous?”

“Not in the slightest.”

“Tuffnut said the same,” Grimmel chuckled, “My brother was sticking to him like dragon saliva.”

“That doesn’t wash out,” Hiccup muttered, focusing on the game and refusing to lose because he got distracted.

Seeing that his son was more focused on the game, Grimmel was relieved. He’d learned quickly that giving Hiccup something to do meant it was easier to get him talking, “Have you found a way to propose to your Heathen yet?”

“Astrid needs to shut her maiden-struck trap,” Hiccup huffed, moving his Chief of Marauders, “But no, I haven’t.”

“Best hurry and think of something,” His Ergi commented, taking one of his hunters, “You’ve only got one more marriage between now and then.”

The eye roll he received shined with irritation, “I know.”

Valka’s voice from outside pulled both of their attentions to the door, “Come on, Toothless. He’s in here!”

The Night Fury in question came barrelling into the house, his sister right behind him. Hiccup pet both dragons and threw his leg to distract them, happy that Toothless was careful not to knock the game over. The dragon had learned the hard way that Vikings didn’t take well to their war strategies being knocked around like toys.

Grimmel stared after the Night Furies, the thought striking him that he’d have to prepare Hiccup for their loss. Valka was smothering the boy, along with Gobber, who was standing on Hiccup’s other side, even as the Sergeant tried to stay focused on the game between them. As much as his son loved his dragon, and their unique bond was obvious even after a day, loss was inevitable. Grimmel wasn’t going to have Hiccup leaving such an open target to his heart; not with him taking a crown and challenging the South.

Stoick, who had come up behind Hiccup to view the game, chuckled at seeing his husband’s thought. He would happily leave that little discussion between his son and husband. The Chief had known it was one to have with Hiccup, but he hadn’t been able to bring himself to have it. Twenty-one years of splitting the hard talks with his son between himself, Gobber, and, though he hadn’t admitted it before today, Spitelout; Grimmel could have this one.

Hiccup was surprised that Spitelout Jorgenson had followed his parents from the Great Hall, but he certainly didn’t object, assuming that his mother had brought her best friend. He hugged the lot, assuring Gobber that he did, in fact, have everything he needed for that night. Technically Tuff was the one smuggling Ragnar’s new axe into the Great Hall, since Hiccup wouldn’t have a chance in Helheim of being successful, but they were prepared all the same. He grudgingly let the blacksmith keep polishing his armor, so he could keep playing.

“You lied to me!” Valka accused her son, as all the adults began to settle around to watch the match.

She took the spot behind her son on the bench, while the Chief and his blacksmith took off for the kitchen table. Stoick was trying his best to comfort Gobber, who was hysterical at their son’s first formal wedding; Astrid’s surprise the previous night buying them out of these theatrics. Spitelout took a place on the bench behind Grimmel, watching the game.

The Jorgenson grinned. Hiccup was never as blunt as himself in the game, but his other son knew how to play. And his little Chief wasn’t just playing, he was playing to make a point. Grimmel might not see it coming, but the Elder could from a mile away.

“I assure you, I’ve done no such thing,” Hiccup dismissed, taking several of his Ergi’s hunters in succession. He was prepared for the upcoming slaughter of his own hunters.

“You told me that you couldn’t sing a lick,” Valka told him, “I’ve been told that’s utter rubbish! I want you to sing something tonight.”

“I haven’t sung in…” Hiccup shook his head, remembering the last time he sang, “And in a group doesn’t count. So, no!”

“Oh come on, Hiccup, just one song for your mother?”

“Toothless, she’s forgotten human language. Tell her no in dragon speak, huh?” Hiccup demanded.

A purr was the only response, before Toothless and Freyjid got into a scrap over the Sergeant’s dragon metal leg.

Valka didn’t bother wasting any more time trying to persuade the other brunette, “Stoick, tell your son that he’s singing something tonight.”

“Boys shouldn’t take tone with their mothers either,” The Chief didn’t hesitate to side with his wife. He knew where he was sleeping tonight.

“Really, Dad?!” Hiccup cried, utterly betrayed, even as he took his Ergi’s accomplice.

“I’d start thinking of a song,” Valka recommended with a smile, kissing his forehead as she got up to play with the Night Furies. Cloudjumper didn’t like being indoors, so she’d left the dragon to explore for the night and get into trouble as a solo act.

Hiccup was glaring at the game as all of his parents laughed at him. The Chief was still laughing when inspiration struck his son and the smaller Viking grinned toward his father like a house cat who caught their rodent, “I think I have the perfect one.”

Gobber snorted at the look his husband was getting, warning the Viking, “You’re going to pay for that one.”

“I can tell,” Stoick huffed, crossing his arms and not daring to imagine what their son was up to.

“I have never understood this game,” Valka admitted. She’d never been interested in politics or warfare. It had seemed like seeing Grimmel and Hiccup play would be more interesting, but it wasn’t.

The Chief stood and kissed his wife, “I never understood how you could be best friends with Jorgenson and Grimmel, but not know how to play.”

“Too much of a pacifist,” Gobber scoffed, “You’ve got to get at least some enjoyment out of the game to win.”

Grimmel smiled, taking Hiccup’s traitor, “The traitor always dies.”

“Well, now that Grim’s lost,” Spitelout announced, getting up and wandering over to pull Hiccup close, “Don’t we have a wedding to get to?”

The Commander startled; he hadn’t lost! 

Looking back at the board after Hiccup took his Chief of the Marauders, he looked for what would be his next move. It took him a moment to realize that the only move left to him was to take his son’s dragon. The problem was that, even if he took the piece, all it would accomplish was to free Hiccup to take his Viking Chief and win the game.

He’d lost.

The message was impossible to miss and light blue eyes shot toward emerald.

Hiccup was willingly lazing back on Spitelout Jorgenson, gladly letting the Elder’s arm across his chest pull him close. He knew that his Ergi thought he’d been too enthralled in the game to notice the Commander’s concern about Toothless, but he’d seen the look between the silver Viking and his father. There were only so many ways to acknowledge that he got their point, without having to engage in an hours long conversation. The Jorgenson who had taught him how to play this game provided the quickest solution.

He chuckled, remembering what the Night Fury Killer had told him at the tender age of three, when he walked in on the exact same four men that were currently in their house, talking about how they were going to eliminate the southern threat, although he’d been too young to understand then, “There is always more than one game being played.”

Grimmel startled, unable to believe that Hiccup remembered him saying that, “Alright then.”

“What just happened?” Valka demanded, utterly confused.

“Hiccup got his dramatics from all of us, that’s all,” Stoick dismissed, starting to herd everyone toward the door, “We do need to get moving. Honestly, you’re going to be late for your own wedding!”

By the time they got to the Great Hall, the Thorstons were lined up and waiting in the wings for them. Even Tuffnut looked like he was starting to get a little nervous that Hiccup wasn’t going to show, which led to the Sergeant getting a good scuffing from Ruffnut, before all of their families headed for the Conquest Circle, giving them a moment alone. Hiccup sent Toothless inside to Astrid and Snowfall, which meant that Freyjid trailed after him quickly.

“You’re just cutting it all sorts of close today, aren’t you?” Tuff demanded, adjusting his armor as if it didn’t fit perfectly. 

Hiccup laughed, pulling the blonde in close, “In what world would I not show up to marry you?”

“I have been planning this day since we were five years old,” Tuff confessed, arms going around the Sergeant’s neck, “I cannot believe we’re about to be married.”

The horn signalling for them to enter sounded and Hiccup smiled, “Then let’s go fulfill that pact of yours, hmm?”

The Great Hall looked like it had the previous night, although there was more greenery around the surfaces that would stand still, which screamed of Gobber. His father, mother, and both of his Ergis were standing for Hiccup, with his Ergi Grimmel bridging the two families in the middle. On the Commander’s other side was his twin, Tuff’s mother, and then Ruff standing for her own twin.

The original Dragon Riders were standing together in the seats closest to the Circle. Astrid had Skjall on her hip and smiled brightly at both of them; Aaron was notably absent, but that was all but to be expected after the day the Hofferson patriarch had been through. Fishlegs was crying already and, while that wasn’t surprising, seeing both Spitelout and Snotlout get misty eyed was. Eret was sitting near the Larsons and next to Gustav; his grin was as bright as Astrid’s.

Tuffnut knew that all of Hiccup’s attention was on him throughout the ceremony. Having all that Haddock focused on one individual was an unmistakable sensation that not even the Hooligan heir could fake, but the Thorston had to admit his thoughts strayed twice. Both with good reason!

The first was because the Heathen Tribe was stationed behind Hiccup’s head. So, when it was time for the hand tying, there was no doubt that Ragnar Lothbrok was forcing himself to watch the union without blinking. The other blonde was a Heathen and, Tuff assumed, not crying mercy included not looking away even when it was most tempting. He’d never longed to disclose a surprise so much in his life, but he was glad that Hiccup didn’t have to look like he would have if the Heathens had stationed themselves on the other side of the Great Hall.

The second was when his grandmother was performing the final blessing. Gothi Thorston was the toughest Viking that Tuffnut had ever known and seeing her cry at his getting married, knowing she’d been the first person he ever told that he was going to marry Hiccup one day, it was a moment just for them. He’d never forget it.

Behind him, Tuff could hear his father and Gobber sobbing. There were more tears at their wedding, than Estrid’s funeral, and that was telling. He didn’t know which of the two men were more obnoxious in their theatrics, but the Thorston twin finally felt for his friends if this is what it was like to live with him.

Cheers rang out around the whole hall as they kissed.

Taking their place at the head table enabled the food, music, and dancing to commence for everyone. Luckily, since Hiccup was the one getting married, the Chief wasn’t stuck in the tribal chairs and neither was his wife or the groom. Both of their families were free to eat and mingle with everyone right away.

Congratulations were aplenty as soon as the music started. 

Dagur and Mala were the first to get to them; the sobbing Berserker Chief being comforted by his heavily pregnant wife made Hiccup bite his tongue to keep from laughing. The Sergeant wound up leaving the table briefly to comfort his hysterical brother, not wanting to leave Mala with him that upset. When he wasn’t able to calm Dagur down, Stoick took over, citing the problem being that the Berserker got the Haddock hair of flame, which made them prone to exceptional emotion. Hearing that his father, Oswald, had been much the same seemed to help settle the younger Chief.

Throk was just behind the pair and Tuffnut caught his stray glances toward Ruffnut. Given that he was trying to get Hiccup married to someone who carried a torch for the first Dragon Rider after one summer and one kiss, the Thorston didn’t feel that he had a right to judge. Still, Ruff was happy with Fishlegs and not going to leave their family or Berk, so he wished the warrior from Defenders of the Wing new love.

The Wing Maidens came next and Hiccup was thrilled when they passed by quickly to get to his mother after Dagur’s sob fest, although when he realized who was coming up behind them he rethought that perspective.

The King of the Heathens approached with his mother on his arm, although given how much it appeared Ragnar would rather be anywhere else, that description might have needed a reversal. Alfhid did all of the talking, congratulating the new husbands and striking up conversation with Tuffnut over Mala’s pregnancy, having had several sets of twins among her thirteen children and empathizing with the foreign Queen. 

Ragnar and Hiccup said nothing to one another, but their eyes locked and neither looked away, until Alfhild finally went to yanking her son from his spot upon realizing what was happening.

Tuffnut laughed at how horrified the previous Heathen Queen looked; if only she knew. He’d only caught the look between the two Vikings for a moment, only because Alfhild had looked so startled herself, but even that second had Tuff a little hot under the vest himself. Those two had enough sexual tension between them to fell a Bewilderbeast and, if Hiccup did his job correctly, their wedding night was going to be miraculous to say the least.

“Would you like to head for the Circle before the two of you burn the Great Hall down?”

“Not yet,” Hiccup chugged his ale in one go. 

He could tell by the huge smile on Tuffnut’s face that his husband was far from offended and he was just grateful that his father was still dealing with Dagur across the room. In fact, the Heathens timing was perfect, as the Wing Maidens were still occupying his mother and his Ergi Grimmel and Uncle Grimmnut had chosen to sit next to one another at the head table, so they weren’t paying any attention.

Of course, Gobber noticed and gave him an exasperated look, but Hiccup just shrugged.

It took Tuff a minute to digest Hiccup’s comment, but then he realized, “You have a plan?”

“Dad set himself up and I plan to make him eat crow, rather than the other way around,” Hiccup admitted, “You’re still alright with this?”

“Oh, I can’t wait to get you two back to Eret’s,” Tuffnut happily looked at the Heathen pouting across the room, where he was leaning on a column, up and down, “Best day of my life!”

“Well, we’d best make sure of that,” Hiccup told him, standing and extending a hand to lead them into a dance.

Accepting, the High Priest had to ask, “And when do I get this second wedding present?”

“Your twin needs to keep her mouth shut,” The Sergeant growled, “Did she tell you…”

“No! Just that I was getting something else, the jerk.”

“Well, you’ll get yours when Ragnar gets his. Keep your pants on.”

They shared several dances before Astrid came to steal her husband for a spin as well. Skjall was happy to throw herself at Tuffnut for a dance and by that point Fishlegs had led Ruffnut down from the head table, just as Snotlout had talked Heather into a dance. Mala was exhausted, overdue, and Dagur knew better than to even try to persuade her toward any such thing if he wanted to live, much less have more children in the future.

Seeing all the kids dancing, Spitelout and Stoick got nostalgic and happily brought their wives out for a dance as well. 

Astrid grinned at the taller Haddock, “So, did you come up with anything?”

“As a matter of fact I did.”

“Well?” She demanded, “Don’t leave me in suspense.”

Hiccup chuckled, “You’ll know when it happens, trust me. Mom gave me the perfect idea.”

“Gods, I hope it doesn’t involve a Bewilderbeast.”

“No, but I am going to need Fishlegs' help.”

The song came to an end and Astrid ushered him off to convene with his Ingerman best friend. She couldn’t imagine what Hiccup had come up with, between them leaving Snotlout’s house, her mother’s service, and his first wedding of the night, but the Haddock never disappointed. It also worked out that he’d told her where to find more information.

Searching the room for Valka, Astrid spotted her cousin trapped between Bjorn Boor and Eret, both Vikings were clearly trying to cheer him up. She’d never seen the other man look as wrecked as when Hiccup got married, and knowing that it was the Dragon Rider’s second marriage, Astrid couldn’t imagine what her cousin had gone through seeing her in the Conquest Circle. Whatever Hiccup was planning, she hoped to make it happen a little faster if she could get to Valka.

The Chieftess was, once again, with her friends at the Wing Maidens’ acquired tables. It was no surprise that the woman didn’t get any joy from sitting at the head table and abandoned it at her first opportunity. Astrid joined them, accepting the drink that was readily shoved into her hand, as the women warriors were known to put away more alcohol than even the most legendary of other Vikings.

It took a few minutes, but when there was a break in the conversation she demanded, “How are you inspiring Hiccup?”

“Is that how he put it?” Valka laughed at the thought.

“So to speak?”

“I want to hear him sing, though he didn’t mention what song.”

That confused the younger woman. Her cousin wasn’t exactly the artistic type; Hiccup had to know that. And she had never heard her husband sing before. Why in the world would his goal be to serenade Ragnar? What would make that seem like a good idea?

“Your son is confusing,” Astrid told her mother in law.

“Takes after his father, that one,” Valka shook her head, glancing around for Stoick. The man was still at the head table, Gobber next to him, and the two were saved from making the rounds tonight as everyone was coming to them, “I wasn’t expecting him to propose to me, after he won the regatta when we were eighteen, but the Haddock men tend to pull off their grand gestures well.”

Astrid studied the brunette, who was going more grey with everyday it seemed, much like their Chief, “How did he wind up taking an Ergi into his house the same night as his first marriage?”

“Well… I was never what you might call a proper lady,” Valka confessed, “I saw that the two of them had a spark between them and kept throwing wood into that fire. Finally, I caught them in a rather compromising position down by the docks. Let’s just say it was lecherous enough that they couldn’t talk their way out of it.”

The maiden Hofferson went to laugh so hard that she almost fell out of her chair.

Valka knew that there had to be a certain novelty to imagining Stoick the Vast and the Night Fury Killer with their pants caught around their ankles. She went on to describe how Gobber had been with her and how they had used the blackmail material, as well as the fact that Stoick had all but been on his hands and knees begging her not to tell Spitelout, to make the then Hooligan Heir marry twice in one day, “We tried to get him to marry Gobber that season as well, but his father was in such a snit that we never could have pulled it off. They wound up waiting until after I was taken, sadly.”

Astrid had no idea how to lessen the woman’s guilt. So, she was relieved when Hiccup and Fishlegs started for the raised platform of the musicians, “Well, let’s see how much of a snit we can work the Chief into.”

Confused by the comment, Valka looked around the room. She was delighted to see that Hiccup was taking the stage and quickly excused herself to go and get Stoick’s attention, while the boys were still explaining things to the musicians. Astrid decided to make a break for Eret and her cousin, all though catching Stoick’s reaction up close and personal had been tempting. The deciding factor had been that her Aunt Alfhild was standing next to the Chief and the Hofferson knew that would either end very well, or very poorly.

Bjorn was easily dismissed. Eret only knew that the evening’s drama was upon them when Astrid set him with a look behind the Heathen King’s back. Unaware of any nefarious intent, Ragnar’s eyes were still locked onto Hiccup, excited by his presence on the stage.

Hiccup knew that he’d have to go with the solo version of the song, but he still thought it was perfect. Luckily Fishlegs had brought his pipes and knew the popular tune, as most musicians did. By the time the Sergeant turned to face the crowd, the roar of the Great Hall was once again a low murmur, just like it had been when Astrid entered the Conquest Circle the night before.

“Well, it wouldn’t be a night on Berk if I didn’t show out a little,” Hiccup told the expectant Vikings, waving Toothless off from climbing up on the stage. The joke had all the Berkians and most of their visitors shouting, everyone quick to blame whichever of his parents they knew best, “My mother informed me earlier this evening that I was singing tonight and, since my father can still break me in half, here I am.”

That earned another round of cheers and an eye roll from the Chief.

“I’ve been told many times over the last year that this particular song is the reason I’m currently here,” Hiccup admitted, “So, it seemed only appropriate that I give it my best shot.”

Fishlegs took his cue and began to play. Hiccup shared a smile with his father, well aware that the Chief thought he got the joke, if only he knew. Still, the Sergeant smiled at the Viking he still believed could move mountains and tame seas, and who began leading his mother back toward the other dancers. 

Looking toward his own target, Hiccup found Ragnar’s gaze and started singing, “I’ll swim and sail on savage seas… with ne’re a fear of drowning… and gladly ride the waves of life… if you would marry me…”

Ragnar Lothbrok froze. He’d realized that Astrid was behind him when she laughed at Hiccup’s horrible joke, but only when the Haddock started singing directly to him did he realize there was something else happening. While he was surprised and confused, nothing could have stopped him from getting lost in the love of his life’s eyes and voice.

“No scorching sun nor freezing cold will stop me on my journey, if you would promise me your heart and love for all eternity…” Hiccup couldn’t have told another soul if most eyes were on him, Ragnar, or even oblivious to them and on the dancers. He didn’t rightly care, to be honest, because in this moment, what his father felt in the nest of his mother’s Bewilderbeast was apparent to him, “To love and kiss and sweetly hold, for the dancing and the dreaming, through all life’s sorrows and delights, I’ll keep your laugh inside of me! I cannot bring your rings of gold, I cannot write you poetry, but I would keep you from all harm, if you would stay beside of me.”

“I’ll swim and sail on savage seas, with ne’re a fear of drowning, and gladly ride the waves of life, if you would marry me! No scorching sun nor freezing cold could stop me on my journey, if you would promise me your heart and love for all eternity…” As the song began to come to a close, Hiccup saw Ragnar’s head tilt, like he wasn’t quite sure what to make of this stunt, though he never broke eye contact from Hiccup. That only made the Sergeant’s grin widen, “So promise me your heart and love for all eternity!”

As soon as the cheers sounded, Hiccup hopped down from the platform and made a break for the Conquest Circle. Breaking eye contact would end the spell and, in reality, whether his father was already looking or not, the Hooligan heir was going to do this. He still didn’t know how many were actually looking at him and Ragnar, but there was a clear path between both of them and the Circle, so that was telling enough as he stepped inside.

“Ragnar Lothbrok!”

As soon as the name was done reverberating around the Great Hall, Stoick the Vast’s voice cursed, “Oh Odin have  _ mercy _ !”

Finally looking away from the Heathen, Hiccup couldn’t resist turning his head to take in his father’s reaction. The Chief of Berk’s arms were crossed and he was looking between Hiccup and Ragnar with some cross between nostalgia and dragon fire. It seemed like a bit of a coin toss where he would land.

The man was still among the dancers with a surprised but enthusiastic Valka. His chances of tapping into his nostalgia weren’t helped by the fact that Spitelout Jorgenson had taken his own wife out for a dance and was currently having to hold himself up using the Chief’s shoulder, because he was laughing so hard no sound was even coming out. Behind them at the head table, Grimmel had his twin brother by the ear to keep him from getting involved, while Tuffnut looked at his new favorite uncle like the Commander was Loki himself.

“I understand your frustration, Stoick, really I do, but,” A new voice joined in. It was Alfhild, who was nearby, having been drug onto the floor by an ecstatic Gobber, “I’ve been trying to get him married to anybody for years now. Let’s hear them out!”

Stoick pinched the bridge of his nose with a huff, then, fixing Ragnar with a look, gestured to the Circle, “Well, go on then.”

Hiccup smiled when the blonde’s attention returned to him, “Take your stance.”

That finally jolted the Heathen King out of his shock and slowly he moved into the Conquest Circle, where his parents had been married decades before. Once inside, when Hiccup was only a breath away, Ragnar couldn’t stop himself from asking for clarity because he couldn’t believe what was happening, “Hiccup?”

“If you would deny me as your husband this night,” Hiccup started, “Will you take up arms?”

Slowly Ragnar reached for the axe on his belt and threw it outside the Circle. Several brawls broke out among Heathens fighting for it and, honestly, he was a little sad to lose it, but nothing compared to the joy that was starting to creep in as he processed what Hiccup was doing. They were in the Conquest Circle!

Hiccup was just glad that Ragnar’s dragon hadn’t wanted to deal with the crowds here tonight. After seeing Toothless’ little presentation over Peacekeeper the night before, the Sergeant didn’t want to know how Brightroar might have shown out over the axe, “Will you call for aid?”

“I pity the poor bastard that would aid him,” Alfhild hissed, glaring around the room, “I want grandchildren!”

It was simple enough to take a page from Hiccup’s book with his response, so Ragnar shrugged, “That answers that doesn’t it?”

Hiccup stepped even closer, as if they weren’t sharing breath already, “Will you cry mercy?”

Memories jolted by the question, Ragnar’s head immediately turned to seek out Thorston, who was giving him a thumbs up from the head table. Then he snapped to look in the other direction, only to find both Astrid and Eret waving him on encouragingly. Realizing that they had all known this was coming, his attention returned to Hiccup, “We do not cry mercy.”

For the first time Hiccup kissed him and it was amazing.


	5. Chapter 5

The Heathen tribe roared into celebration for their king, spurring the rest of the hall to join them. Hiccup ended their kiss and took a step back, preparing to step out of the circle back into the world of men, where he would have to face the music. The brunette Viking was surprised when his newest husband’s hand dashed out for his own and something that he wouldn’t call fear, because Ragnar would kill him for the slight, but which certainly sang of trepidation, crossed the Heathen’s face.

It took him a moment to put the blonde’s concern together, Hiccup’s own insecurities coming to the forefront and proposing that the Heathen already regretted what they’d just done. Shaking his head, it struck the Hooligan that Ragnar hadn’t liked him moving away. With a grin he reminded the tribal king, “You’ll only be rid of me in Valhalla.”

Ragnar beamed at the assurance and informed his  _ husband _ , because Hiccup Haddock had just married him, that, “You won’t even escape me then.”

Tuffnut jumped the head table to get to the pair as they started moving out of the Conquest Circle. Although he, Astrid, and Eret had been encouraging the Heathen, he knew that all eyes were on him as he threw himself across Lothbrok’s back, everyone wanted to see his reaction. One hand splayed across the Heathen’s chest to pull him back and the other locking on his chin to turn the King’s face towards his, Tuff thought that sticking his tongue down the golden blonde Viking’s throat was as good a message as any.

The Heathen was only surprised for a moment before their tongues had their own small battle, Tuff pulling away first to exclaim, “Welcome to the family!”

Where he was standing with his back pulled to the Thorston’s chest, Ragnar grinned and subtly ground his arse back against the other blonde, “Welcome indeed.”

No one else in the Great Hall heard the Heathen or saw the action, except for Hiccup, who muttered, “I’m being tested.”

Their moment was disrupted, in the nicest of ways, by the reminder that they were in the middle of the Great Hall and surrounded by people wanting to offer their congratulations, when Astrid jumped onto her cousin squealing. 

Much like he had at the springs, Ragnar caught the maiden Viking with ease, but this time his arms locked around her tight as well. It finally hit him in that moment that Astrid wasn’t angry with him and, not only was she not angry, but nothing that had been revealed today changed her mind about them both marrying Hiccup. The King of the Heathens turned his head to kiss her cheek, so grateful to have his little sister back in his life for good.

While the Hoffersons had their moment, Stoick had approached his son and was staring down at the smaller Viking. The grin on his son’s face was sheepish and mischievous, after a moment the scarlet Viking identified the look as boyish and took him back to when Hiccup was eight and beat him at Maces and Talons for the first time, after he spent the whole summer learning from Spitelout Jorgenson. He couldn’t even pretend to be angry and laughed loudly, scooping the Sergeant into his arms for a bear hug, “You even warned me!”

“Yeah,” Hiccup smiled, glad that his father wasn’t actually pissed. He hadn’t thought the man truly would be, not after their talk the evening before, but everyone else had started to make him nervous.

“But four is your hard limit,” Stoick informed him.

Astrid giggled as her big brother placed her back on the ground, “We couldn’t agree with you more, Chief!”

Ragnar was surprised when his mother embraced him crying. He chuckled, “I assume those are tears of joy at finally having married me off?”

“Of course,” Alfhild lied, having to hide her face in her youngest son’s neck for a moment to let a sob pass her by. Once she had a moment to compose herself, she pulled away and let Berk’s Chieftess take her place.

Valka kissed her new son in law’s cheek, “Not what I was expecting from making him sing, but a wonderful result all the same.”

“You didn’t know?” Ragnar was surprised. It seemed like if anyone had been helping Hiccup with this plan, it would be the woman he’d confessed his love for the Sergeant’s singing to earlier.

Shaking her head, the Viking mother backed away to let prominent members of the Heathen tribe get to their King. No one was going to start planning what their move to the far north would look like tonight, not when Ragnar’s marriage had clearly been a surprise to the King himself, but everyone was excited for their move during his reign. There had been talk about something like this happening all afternoon, after seeing the youngest Lothbrok son on the back of a dragon, but no one had been sure until Haddock entered the Conquest Circle.

Hiccup had already met most of the prominent Heathens the night before, however he was dutiful in accepting their congratulations with Ragnar on one side of him and Tuffnut on the other. Making everyone feel confident that they knew what they were doing was imperative. The Sergeant was grateful that his father stayed close by, and even took off with a few of the older Heathen Elders of importance, talking shop with them about the move, as they were least apt to wait even the night, unlike most of their tribe.

Once the adrenaline and excitement began to die away, music and dancing resumed, as well as the consumption of more spirits and food. The political talk would wait until the next day, as chat returned to commentary on the liveliness that was Berk, and who had qualified to participate in the second race of the season the next morning. Even Grimmnut couldn’t be upset with his nephew after Tuff kissed Ragnar like he had, so the man just hugged the Sergeant and accused him of being a right upstart.

Grimmel was at his twin’s shoulder when they parted and quickly pulled his son in close. He’d known on the way to Berk that Hiccup was betrothed to several people and he’d been dreading having to marry off the boy, having felt like he would somehow further lose him. Astrid had been a surprise and, perhaps knowing that they were waiting until their sanctioned marriage at First Snowfall, he hadn’t been overly concerned the night before.

Now, the Commander was realizing that he wasn’t losing Hiccup as his son because the boy got married. Assuring the younger Viking that they would figure out the logistics before the race tomorrow, Grimmel encouraged him to enjoy his wedding night. As the Sergeant and his Heathen were drawn into conversation with a chuckling Gobber, who instigated Ragnar's reception of his new axe, the returning sailor turned to his nephew.

Tuffnut had always been closest to his grandmother. Gothi was a practical and fierce Thorston, set in direct opposition to the theatrical side of the family like Tuff, or his father, Grimmnut. While the young man loved his father deeply, the man had always been closer to Ruff, because the they were simply too much alike. Ruffnut was more like their grandmother, her eccentricities naturally occurring and not a deep dramatic flair.

Knowing that the High Elder and Medicine Woman was getting so much older, he’d already dealt with the fact that he wouldn’t have her too much longer. For the last day, being around his Uncle Grim had only gotten easier and easier, and the pair could already tell that they would end up very close. The younger Thorston grinned, “Thank you.”

“For what? Dealing with him?” Grimmel scoffed, pulling his nephew in for an embrace as well, “I assure you, I’ve been doing it long before you were even thought of. Pain in the arse is always trying to show out.”

As the feast kicked back into full swing, Eret and Astrid happily found a table on the outskirts of the hullabaloo to wait out the time until they could leave. The Hofferson had no interest in being the center of attention anymore today and was thrilled to be the old news of Hiccup’s spouses. Eret was consuming chicken while Tuffnut was distracted, knowing how sensitive the Priest was about his pet being on the menu, while they lounged together.

The Viking was sitting at the table properly, keeping an eye on his team as they integrated themselves into Berk, drinking with new friends and allies, and probably consuming more than they should. Astrid was stretched out on the table’s bench, legs extended and crossed at the ankles, while she lounged back on Eret’s right arm with her head nestled against the blacksmith’s shoulder as she kept an eye on Skjall. Her little sister was across the room with Valka at the Wing Maiden table, thinking herself a big girl as she took in the drinking game that the adults were playing.

“Does it bother you? Being the only one not married in?”

Eret started at the question, then scoffed, “No,” Then he had a moment to think about it, “Maybe it would have, before yesterday.”

“You really didn’t think Stoick was going to let you marry into Berk?” Astrid was surprised. The Chief had been incredibly fond of Eret since the trapper helped them escape Bludvist and get to Valka’s nest in time to aid Hiccup in getting back to Berk.

“That wasn’t it… I mean, it was, but I meant…” Eret sighed, “I couldn’t wait to marry Hiccup, but until I saw Grimmel in the house, actually, even when I did, all I could feel was dread at first. It wasn’t until Hiccup called him Ergi that…”

Realizing that he was struggling, Astrid quickly sat up so that they could see one another properly. She stared at the man who had become her best friend alongside Heather. Everything had been so chaotic around Berk since Grimmel the Grisly’s return that it had been easy to forget how much they didn’t know about the Commander’s life in the twenty years that he had been in the South; how much they didn’t know about Eret’s life before he came to Berk.

“You had no idea who he was married to.”

“No,” Eret glanced toward the Commander, who was currently on his husband’s arm as the Chief’s council ribbed at the man for Hiccup’s antics, “I was raised a dragon trapper. I always thought that my father’s Berserker roots, my own Northern roots, were completely in line with that.”

Taking a moment to think about that, Eret remembered when he first met Dagur. He’d thought that, if the Chief of the Berserkers had a dragon, then maybe he could persuade his family. Finding out about Oswald’s fate had fractured that hope, unsure if his father would believe anything that Eret may have even attempted to tell his namesake, before today.

Astrid followed his gaze, watching as Gobber sided with the council against Stoick and his other spouses, citing them as the reason Hiccup turned out the way he did; them and their marital antics gave their boy ideas, apparently, “You’ve been through so much in the last day. I’m so sorry I haven’t…”

He laughed before being able to stop it, “No, Astrid. It hasn’t been bad!” When she looked skeptically at him, Eret shrugged, “I love Berk. I’ve fallen in love with all of you, and I love our dragons, but it’s also just this place. It’s become home. That didn’t stop me from feeling like a traitor for an entire year.”

“I thought that if I ever saw Grimmel again, it would be across a battlefield with Toothless standing between us,” The blacksmith nodded toward the Wing Maiden table, “Before she was found, and if it wasn’t for Stoick, I know I would have been right.”

Astrid flinched at how confidently he said it. Grimmel had stopped actively hunting the Furies after the Battle of the Red Death from what she’d gathered, but he also hadn’t gone looking to save them until he was returning to Berk either. Not until Valka came back, from what Hiccup disclosed. 

She felt guilty suddenly, for having minimized her husband’s anger earlier that day, processing that she’d invalidated Hiccup’s completely justifiable feelings because of what she’d been experiencing. Part of her had felt the need to defend Valka because the woman had been more of a mother to her in the last year then Estrid Hofferson ever was. But, Val had made a choice not to be that mother to Hiccup for twenty years and it hadn’t been Astrid’s place to ignore that.

Eret continued jovially, with no idea how his previous comment had started an internal spiral for his friend, “Yesterday felt like a miracle! Grimmel was here and married to Stoick the Vast and Hiccup’s Ergi. The fleet that I had grown up on was Berk’s and I was going to get to see my family again!”

Despite her own feelings of guilt, Astrid smiled at his exuberance. She was thrilled for her friend as she realized that he’d been on the same rainbow as Hiccup the last two days.

“And today,” Eret shook his head, “Dad is so excited to meet you, Astrid! And Tuffnut! I can’t wait for you to meet my mother and sisters!”

“They are all older than you, yes?” Astrid clarified. Eret hadn’t shared a lot about his time before Berk, as it had been too painful, but they had picked up some things. He’d had four sisters and his mother had sworn to have no more than five children; Eret the Elder had prayed to Thor for a son every night of his wife’s last pregnancy according to fun facts the previous trapper had shared.

“Yep! Anway, to answer your original question,” He finally circled back around, “Astrid, my family is going to be at my wedding!” Eret laughed, “As a matter of fact, after I explained to Dad what you did last night, I was specifically told that if I took my happy arse anywhere near that Circle before my family got here, I’d be skinned and hung on my parents wall like a prized pelt.”

That made the General burst into a fit of giggles.

“What’s so funny over here?” Hiccup asked as he wandered over with Ragnar and Tuffnut.

Toothless and Freyjid came running toward their table, upon realizing that the Haddock was sitting down. He quickly gave them attention, although his focus stayed on this moment with all of his lovers in one place and settled. Snowfall trailed over after a few minutes, having been enjoying her time with the remaining children at the feast, those who hadn’t already lost out to exhaustion.

Eret smiled at his betrothed, “I was telling Astrid about Dad’s threat if I got married before the fleet arrived.”

The Sergeant had been told about the joke on the way back to Berk and he laughed once more as Eret told Tuff and Ragnar about it, sitting down on Astrid’s other side and throwing his arm around her. The Heathen and Priest sat shoulder to shoulder on the other side of the table and Hiccup was sure that they were both about to come out of their skin. He couldn’t wait to tell their children of Tuff’s hypocrisy.

Her husband barely had a chance to exhale as he sat down, his arm going around her, before Astrid was blurting out, “I’m sorry. I wasn’t right.”

“About what?” Hiccup asked startled, instantly leaning in closer so they could talk, as the other three were too busy jesting to pay them much attention.

“Hiccup!”

Astrid was cut off as both Dragon Riders looked over to see that Spitelout had cut from the group surrounding the Chief, and he had Gertrude with him. Until that moment, Hiccup hadn’t thought about the fact that he’d completely changed the social structure of the tribe by getting married. He made a mental note to stay aware of that fact, because if he didn’t stay on top of the change, that’s when he’d never hear the end of it from his old man.

There was a reason that the Chief, Chieftess, and tribal heirs were expected to remain in their sanctioned seats in every Great Hall in the Archipelago, for some duration during every feast; that was the only time anyone present could approach them first. It was also why Hiccup’s father spent every night making rounds and approaching visitors and Berkians of prominence, to show acknowledgement of their status. It was against Viking culture to approach a Chief, their spouse, or their heir without welcome.

Now that all of his spouses had been elevated to his status within the tribe, Eret a notable exception and betrothed to him, Hiccup was going to have to keep in mind that people wouldn’t feel comfortable inserting themselves with them. It had been increasing more and more for him personally since his return from Dragon’s Edge, the younger the heir the more approachable they were, and he’d have to warn the newest family members about this odd social phenomena of being a Haddock on Berk. There was no reason to piss anyone off unintentionally.

“Spitelout! Gertrude! Care to join us?”

The Jorgenson elder grinned as he took the seat on Hiccup’s other side, throwing an arm around the younger Viking, as he’d watched the realization dawn on Berk’s Sergeant, “Who is Skjall staying with tonight, kiddo?”

Hiccup knew instantly that Spitelout hadn’t thought he couldn’t approach, he’d been making a point knowing his surrogate son hadn’t thought of it. He loved that about his godfather, the man could make a statement without the lecture.

On the future Chief’s other side, his wife tensed. Astrid hadn’t thought of that. Her father desperately needed a night to himself and she’d been planning to go with Hiccup and the other guys, if they still wanted her to. Of course, her sister took priority, so she’d make due, “I”ll probably take her, I suppose.”

“To what?” Hiccup asked, “Sleep in the arena? No, I can ask Dad…”

“I was actually hoping to take her, Hiccup,” Gertrude broke in before the Dragon Rider could complete the thought.

“I’m sure you want your first night without Snotlout to yourselves,” Astrid dismissed, finding it easy to poke fun at her long time friend, but instead earning a snort from the boy’s mother.

Gertrude hand waved off the sentiment flamboyantly from her seat next to Tuffnut, “What? So I’m reminded of the fact that I’m now an old crone? To be childless for the rest of my days?”

In his peripheral, Hiccup spotted the older Viking’s eye roll and could all but hear the silent prayer on the man’s lips. Before Gertrude had discovered Estrid’s death, the Haddock was sure that his surrogate father heard that lament all morning. They hadn’t been joking when citing the previous day that Gertrude was the second most annoying woman on Berk, first now that Estrid was gone. Thinking it over, Hiccup realized that Skjall would be a reprieve for Spitelout.

Still, the woman across from him had been his mother Hiccup’s entire life too. He’d come to associate her annoying qualities with something nostalgic pooling in his gut. All around Berk he’d always heard people complain about their smothering, overbearing mothers, and longed for that himself. He’d been seven, almost eight, when he’d walked into the Jorgenson house looking for Snotlout, only to be pulled into a tight hug, given a sloppy kiss on the cheek, and a new green shirt for the warm weather approaching, before Hiccup realized that he already had a Mom.

“Sounds perfect to me,” The Sergeant shrugged, looking over at Astrid with a nod to the couple, “Let Mom take her for the night.”

When the plump blonde Viking startled across the table Hiccup was surprised. He puzzled over her reaction, even as Astrid happily agreed and crossed the table to hug Gertrude offering her thanks. As Spitelout and Astrid took off for the Wing Maiden table to collect Skjall, Snowfall at her rider’s side, he was still putting it together.

He’d called Gertrude ‘Mom’ since that day when he was seven. That was long before he and Snotlout learned that they were supposed to be rivals of some sort, so all he’d had to do was ask his friend. Knowing that Hiccup didn’t have a mother, the little Jorgenson had been happy to say that he’d share his when they talked about it out on the Undockable Shore. Yes, the Sergeant had been stretched thin this last year, attempting to run the village without his father, and grappling with the offer of a crown, while managing all of their growing allies and talking to those Vikings who’s blessing he would need, all on top of getting to know his mother…

Oh.

Hiccup hadn’t seen Gertrude Jorgenson and Valka Haddock talk in the year since the Chieftess’ return. Nor had he thought about it, or how his mother’s return would impact the woman. It didn’t change the fact that he considered Gertrude his mother too, though, knowing it would be hypocritical given how many fathers he had, but it did give new light to why the woman stayed with them, as Spitelout went to collect Astrid’s little sister.

If someone was going to try to bridge the gap between the women, Hiccup felt like it was the sort of thing that was his father’s problem. He wasn’t going to let Gertrude think he’d ignore her as his mother though and grabbed her hand across the table, “How is the new place, Mom? Any problems?”

She beamed, “No, it’s perfect. I didn’t know that any of the Elder’s housing had shelves like that.”

“They don’t,” Hiccup grinned sheepishly, “Snotlout and I built those a couple of weeks ago. You mentioned having to get rid of your knick knacks during the down size, but we played with them too often to let that happen.”

Gertrude busted out crying at that knowledge and rounded the small table to grasp at Hiccup, before she wandered off to find her son and cry on him too. 

Tuff snorted once she was gone, “I can’t believe that woman has anything left to cry out.”

“She’s had a long day,” Hiccup defended, hand running over his face, “I didn’t realize, we haven’t even talked since my mother came back.”

“You have had a pretty long year yourself,” Eret reminded him, glancing toward the surrounding feast, “Actually, it’s getting pretty late. Why don’t we head out soon?”

Given that Eret was the one helping him with Tuff and Ragnar’s new dragons, Hiccup knew that he was taking into account the fact that they had a stop to make, before getting back to the blacksmith’s residence. Astrid was saying goodnight to her sister, while she, Snotlout, and Heather all attempted to get a snubbing Gertrude, tired Spitelout, and matching Skjall out the main door of the Great Hall. Seeking out his father, it wasn’t difficult to spot the Chief in his sanctioned chair, Gobber and Grimmel on either side of him, as he gave everyone at the party that was winding down a chance to speak with him, even on one of the few nights he wasn’t required to.

With a thumb toward the door and a hand raised across the vast hall, Hiccup had Stoick the Vast’s blessing to retire for the night. 

Astrid was just turning to head back inside from seeing her sister off when Eret’s large arm draped over her shoulders to pull her along. Glancing to their right, her cousin was back to gripping Hiccup’s hand like the Haddock might disappear, and Tuffnut was on the Sergeant’s other side exclaiming about their wedding presents. Despite her own nerves, she grinned at the trio of Vikings, “Where to now?”

Hiccup grinned and mounted Toothless, signalling the rest of them to call for their own dragons. Skullcrusher, Stormfly, and Barf and Belch were there in just a moment. Seeing Ragnar was going to ride with Hiccup, Astrid promised, “We’ll work on dragon calls tomorrow.”

“Let’s head for the Undockable Shore,” Hiccup requested.

They weren’t in the air for two minutes when things got a little out of hand. Brightroar came out of cloaking near Toothless mid flight and was extremely unhappy with the Night Fury for carrying his rider. The two didn’t fight, exactly, but the growling and nips the Light Fury took at the Alpha made them all ecstatic to dismount as quickly as possible.

Snowfall was flying alongside Astrid and Stormfly, and the smaller Light Fury seemed to take exception to her father’s attitude. The human riders didn’t know if Skathia had been there all along, but after a tense minute, Brightroar’s mate appeared and seemed to snap him out of his problem, teeth first. Ragnar felt bad, he just hadn’t known how to find his dragon.

When they landed, Brightroar was quick to scent the Heathen. Toothless gave a little returning growl at the Light Fury’s attitude, but Hiccup thought it sounded decidedly like himself calling Snotlout a yak’s arse, and he determined that the two would be fine. Dragon calls were definitely something to work on the next day and, since Brightroar was possessive, it was even better to get Ragnar another dragon early on; it would help dissuade the instinctive tendency.

The first Dragon Rider sent Toothless and Snowfall off to bond, wishing his friend luck, and keeping Freyjid there with himself. It was a sweet moment and all of the Haddock’s spouses felt privileged to be there, happy to see Toothless able to pursue a family away from the human bonds that the Night Fury had forged. The two did make a striking couple as they flew off under the full moon.

“Those babies will be adorable!” Tuffnut declared as they watched them go. The Thorston stared after them, even as Hiccup chuckled at his assessment, but he heard when his husband called for a Monstrous Nightmare and… A dragon he couldn’t place.

“What was that?” The Medicine Man asked, moving to his tree only to find it empty. After rummaging for a moment, thinking maybe he’d just missed his satchel, all Tuffnut got for his efforts was a scratched palm, “The nerve! I know I left some in here! Did you…”

“Wasn’t me,” Hiccup dismissed

“Well someone broke into my stash!” 

“There are other animals that could have gotten to them, you know.”

“If we see any squirrels looking drunk, we’ll know what happened,” Tuff cursed, leaning down to let the saltwater burn across his hand removing as much dirt as possible, “Blasted rodents!”

Eret snorted, “You’ll live. Any more spirits and all the three of you are going to be doing on your wedding night is sleeping them off.”

Astrid snorted in agreement, but a roar distracted all of them.

“Woah, look at him!” Ragnar exclaimed, unable to look away from the massive red and black dragon approaching them. He was gorgeous, looking a bit like Snotlout’s Hookfang but bigger, louder, and with more vivid coloring. The beast looked strikingly like the figurehead on the bow of Dragon’s Fury, his ship, “He’s gorgeous.”

Hiccup grinned at that, “Good, because I’m pretty sure he’s your other dragon.”

Ragnar’s head jolted to the Sergeant in surprise, but when the massive reptile landed two feet in front of him, all the Heathen and dragon could manage was staring at one another. It went like that for a long moment, before the Monstrous Nightmare nudged his head toward the blonde Viking, almost as if urging him to stick his hand out. The king complied, mesmerized by the easy way that the dragon pressed his muzzle into Ragnar’s palm.

“His name is Tytan,” Hiccup told him, “Monstrous Nightmare as your other dragon core; if that’s not telling I don’t know what is.”

“Kiss my arse, Haddock,” Ragar muttered at the annoying brunette.

The taller man’s smirk was licentious at best, “Gladly.”

The two were too busy undressing each other with their eyes to see Eret’s eye roll, but he did so all the same, meeting glances with Astrid, “Let’s get home, first, please.”

“Don’t squash their creativity!” Tuffnut scolded him, taking in the other two Vikings, “Oh gods, this brings out the artist in me!”

Astrid was blushing as red as Tytan’s scales and Eret pulled her in for a hug, whispering, “Don’t worry. We’ll play Maces and Talons while they celebrate. You can just look if you want to.”

“They’re all so…” She trailed off quietly, unsure how to describe the electricity between the three men.

“I know,” Eret understood. If Astrid hadn’t been with them, he probably would have let himself get talked into participating, but this was a lot to throw at the Hofferson after her day. He was more than happy to play a game, answer her questions, and just be a distraction for his best friend when she needed it tonight.

Tuffnut shook his head, happy that Astrid had a calmer soul to help her adjust, and forced himself not to keep going with commentary on Hiccup or their new Heathen husband. Taking a deep breath, he turned toward the sea once more to calm himself down.

Standing there was a green dragon with bright blue eyes and brown spots. It was about the size of Stormfly, who had taken to the water with Skullcrusher. Tuffnut didn’t recognize the species right away and his head tilted.

The dragon matched him.

Still trying to place the creature before him, finally the High Priest asked, “Is that a Prickleboggle?”

“Of the massive variety,” Hiccup told him, wandering over to stand next to his first love, “They may not be fighters, but you’d never find a more loyal or compassionate dragon. Maybe not the traditional warrior, no other dragon spends as much time on the front lines just to help their family either.”

Tears came into the Thorston’s eyes as he looked over at his husband, but Hiccup only shrugged, “This guy is full grown, but he doesn’t have a mate or established pack yet, so he seemed like a perfect transplant for Berk.”

“What’s his name?” Tuffnut asked, extending his hand to the green dragon.

The reptile’s double horned head tilted at the gesture, taking in the cut on the human’s palm. With the smallest huff, ice glowing like that of a Flightmare shrouded around the appendage, before he let his muzzle connect with his new friend. Stepping back, the dragon gave a purr before taking off for Barf and Belch, who were resting on the soft sand on up the shore. The Zippleback enthusiastically bounced around the new dragon, both heads swirling around and rubbing against their new addition to Berk.

Curious, Tuff pulled his hand back and looked, watching as the cut stitched itself up like divine magic, “Woah!” Wide eyed, he showed the dragon’s healing properties off to Hiccup, who smiled knowingly, then the other Dragon Riders, all of whom were fascinated.

As the rest fawned over Tuffnut’s impressive new dragon, the Thorston threw his arms around Hiccup’s neck, “Best day ever!”

The Sergeant chuckled, “I’m glad. Remember to take him up to meet your sister in the morning.”

The Thorston’s only response was to hum, before he leaned in for a long kiss. Pulling away the blonde demanded, “And what do you want to do tonight?”

Eret could take a cue, “Alright, say goodnight to your dragons. We’re getting this party behind closed doors while there’s still time. Pack it up!”

The previous dragon trapper’s place wasn’t far from the Undockable Shore, so everyone agreed to just hike there after saying goodnight to their favorite reptiles. Astrid was happy that Stormfly and Skullcrusher seemed to be sticking together, as Barf and Belch were enamored of and took off with Tuffnut’s new dragon, the High Priest still working on finding a name. Ragnar was glad that Brightroar and Tytan seemed to be getting along, rather than fighting like he’d feared after the incident with Toothless.

Hiccup watched Freyjid bouncing around all the other dragons and it seemed that the icy and aloof Skathia was unable to resist the young dragon in need of a mother figure. Tytan took off with the three Furies, which would be a nice bonding experience, and he allowed himself a moment to wonder if they’d meet up with Toothless and Snowfall, or if the young pair would make their own way tonight. He shook off his speculation and turned to head for Eret’s house with the others, Astrid under his arm.

“I’m sorry if I sounded like you weren’t allowed to be angry at your mother earlier today.”

The quiet voice against the night wind made Hiccup startle, but his green eyes locked on Astrid after he realized what she’d said, “That wasn’t what you meant. You’re right, she had her reasons and she’s not a bad person.”

“But?” Astrid prompted, she didn’t want Hiccup thinking he couldn’t talk about this with her.

Up ahead of them, Tuff and Ragnar had teamed up to try and seduce Eret into their plans for the night. Hiccup doubted it would work, having caught the blacksmith and Astrid’s moment earlier, but he let them distract themselves, “After the race, well, actually, not until we were on the way back from the aid mission, but I got to thinking about it… I think knowing that she came back made things worse.”

Astrid flinched, “I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m glad I know,” Hiccup shook his head, looking up at the stars and full moon, “But, when I was on one side and her fear of others judgement was on the other, I lost out. I wasn’t enough.”

“You have always been enough!” Astrid insisted, both her arms tightening around his waist.

And the thing was, coming from Astrid, he had no problem accepting that reminder and believing it, “Thank you. I just… You know, part of me gets it. That urge to run, be free, without other people’s judgement. I’ve been tempted.”

“If you take off and leave us,” Astrid hissed, “I will send Ragnar after you, and he will skin you, and I’ll hand you on my wall like a prized pelt!”

“Yeah!” The Heathen in question called back, not even bothering to turn around where he was trying to fondle Tuffnut’s arse up ahead of them.

Eret laughed and glanced back at them, “Dad will be glad to know he’s set a new standard for family problems on Berk."

Hiccup chuckled, as Tuff swatted at Ragnar and the king abandoned his harrassment of the Medicine Man to return his attention to the blacksmith, “I’m not going anywhere, not anymore. I just… I have no doubts, not now, that any of my other parents would have come back. Dad did, and knowing what I do now, I can’t imagine how much judgement got heaped on him upon his return.”

Astrid had to agree with that. Viking society was harsh all over the Archipelago and the North. While not as brutal as the Heathen’s particular brand of might based justice, the Hofferson didn’t doubt that the Chief had to pay his dues upon his return. He’d spent far too much time away from Berk, looking for Valka, between her being taken and Grimmel the Grisly’s first return to Berk.

“Gobber has always been right there, doing everything he possibly could for me, and trying for more, even in the moments where I had to work things out for myself,” Hiccup nodded towards Berk’s hill and Astrid spotted the Chief and his spouses all heading toward their house, “Ergi would have been here any moment that I needed him, fuck the South. Hel is great and look at what he did after the arena! He didn’t even know about the Battle of the Red Death and he came back!”

Hiccup scoffed, “What was he possibly told? That Dad and I had a fight over a dragon and, maybe, that I’d been riding one? He accepted the fact that I took off on the back of a  _ Night Fury _ , Astrid!”

She giggled at that, but it was true. If there was ever something that Grimmel the Grisly shouldn’t have been able to accept about his son, even justifiably so, that had been it. Instead… Instead they were about to crown Hiccup the King of the Vikings. 

Thanking the gods when they arrived on his doorstep, Eret shoved Tuffnut and Ragnar inside, where the two Vikings had managed to lock mouths. He snickered at catching the part of their conversation about the Commander and, while waving them inside, offered, “I know he’s kept every letter from his mystery husband. He might have kept that one too. You should ask, Hiccup, he’d tell you!”

Astrid had never been to Eret’s place in the guest housing district before. It seemed large, before she remembered that the other trappers from the blacksmith’s ship had only moved out the afternoon before, after Stoick announced them being inducted as Berkians. Still, that meant that there were several extra beds and sitting benches, along with a table for meals and a smaller table with a Maces and Talons game already set up by the fireplace.

Her cousin and Tuffnut were still locked together at the mouth when they tumbled into the largest bed in the house. Given its state of disarray already, Astrid just assumed that was where Eret slept, and with Hiccup and Tuff the night before. The General purposefully tried to avoid thinking of anything else that they might have been doing.

“And they weren’t the only ones. Hel, when Dad and I were rough going, Spitelout Jorgenson heard me curse the old man every other day, and did nothing more than laugh and encourage me to figure it out,” Hiccup continued, feeling no need to rush off and join the other two. He could tell Astrid was nervous even being there, “I realized tonight, I had a mother on Berk too. Gertrude Jorgenson might be the definition of every Viking mother stereotype that exists, but she made sure I never went without.”

Eret moved the Maces and Talons set to the bed along the far wall from his own, both because it would give Astrid space, and let her see all the good parts, “Our kids are going to have more grandparents than they can keep up with!”

Astrid grinned, happily leaning with her back against the wall on one side of the game set, while Eret took the other side, sitting on the bed, legs crossed. She told Hiccup, who was starting to take off his arm armor, “You should ask the Commander. I’d kill to know what our parents were thinking after the arena, or what Stoick told him before you woke up!”

“Yeah, add it to the pile,” Hiccup muttered, voice dropping as he yanked off the armor on his upper arms, leaving them bare. His list of questions for Grimmel the Grisly was ever growing and he doubted he’d get to them all if he did nothing else for the rest of his life.

“This shit does come off right? You’re not just fucking with me?!”

The three glanced back over to Ragnar and Tuffnut, to realize that the Heathen was having his own struggles with removing the original Dragon Rider’s green and yellow armor. Hiccup laughed and moved to show him how to remove the scaled protection. Tuffnut pointed out that it probably hadn’t been a good idea to give him this new armor, knowing that Barf and Belch were about to retire.

“Actually, your Prickleboggle has defensive skin that, while incredible, is more like ours and they don’t shed,” Hiccup confessed, “It’s lucky that Barf and Belch have a color pattern similar to his.”

The High Priest grinned at his husband, once free of the fireproof fashion statements the Chief had insisted they all wear in public since the previous night. He’d been jealous of Hiccup getting a break while Gobber polished his for their wedding; amazing as the invention was, it was heavy, hot, and meant for battles only, “You just think of everything don’t you?”

Hiccup hummed, allowing both blondes to help him out of the rest of his own Night Fury scale plated outfit, “If he grows into a titan wing phase in a couple of years, we’ll have to revisit the issue.”

Astrid thought that it was funny, the parallels and differences in the way she is sitting and the way that Eret is. She was technically facing the trio on the bed, or her body was anyway, but the General kept her head turned left and her focus on the game before her. Eret, on the other hand, was sitting cross legged with both his face and body directed right toward the game and herself, but it was obvious that he also had no hesitancy in looking at the others anytime he pleased.

That didn't mean Astrid wasn't vaguely aware of what the others were doing and, sometimes, when Eret took interest enough to actually turn his head for a moment, she decided to do the same.

The first time it happened, both the experienced Dragon Riders’ armors had just come off, meaning all three men were equally dressed in their tunics and pants. Eret looked up to watch them for a moment, neither of them having made more than three moves in the game, and Astrid got the sense the blacksmith just wanted to see their shirts come off. She wasnt judging; for all that sex scared her more than Ragnarok itself, there had been no doubt that she was disappointed Hiccup, Eret, and Tuff all had shirts on by the time she landed at their springs.

Huffing a quiet laugh at the look on her cousin’s face, Astrid had to admit that Ragnar looked ecstatic, despite clearly not knowing where to start, his icy gaze dancing between the two Berkians. Eret apparently felt similarly, the large Viking shaking his head at her cousin’s antics. Luckily Hiccup knew exactly where to put his focus and, since the Haddock started kissing Tuffnut and disrobing him, the Heathen was quick to focus his attention onto getting the Sergeant’s shirt off.

The two Berkians were shirtless and gorgeous, before they turned their attention to her cousin. She’d seen Ragnar shirtless before, it wasn’t a big deal, and Vikings had done far more scandalous things with their cousins than this, but the other blonde was too much like herself to ever do anything for Astrid. When she turned back to the game and saw that Eret’s sights were still locked on the Heathen like he was a tasty treat, it struck the General that wasn’t the case for every one.

By the time the blacksmith thought to return to their game, Astrid was smirking at him,

Eret’s eyes rolled, “Fine, fucker’s prettier than my sisters, just like Hiccup. Just don’t ever tell him that I said that.”

“Deal,” Astrid offered easily.

Their voices were quiet, even if the other three had been paying them any attention and silent, they wouldn’t have been able to make out what the pair was saying. Astrid was grateful for the space as they played the game. As pants came off across the room, she became vaguely aware that the other men’s voices didn’t have the same subtle quality Eret’s and her own did. Hiccup was a natural leader and his voice projected without effort, Tuffnut had a troublemaker’s ability to bring all attention to him with but a word, and Ragnar… Well, his dramatic ass could speak with only his eyes and Astrid was hardwired to hear every word.

So, when Tuff told one of the others, “I want to taste you,” that got Astrid’s attention.

“Yes, please!” Ragnar was smirking. His cousin still didn’t look, and she wasn’t sure if he meant to help Tuff or if he was responding to him, but she knew that much from his tone.

“Frigga give me strength,” Eret hissed, his own gaze locked on the game between them.

After a moment of playing though, the friends eyes locked and they’d both been tempted, so both looked.

Astrid couldn’t see Hiccup’s manhood from her current position, as he would have been facing them if his face weren’t tilted upward in pleasure, and Tuffnut and Ragnar were on their knees with their back to them. Tuffnut was leaned into Hiccup and she could hear a sucking sound, after a couple of moans from the Sergeant, the blonde leaned in further.

Whatever he did, Hiccup gasped and his hands flew into the Thorston’s silky blonde hair, before he stuttered out, “Thor have fucking mercy! Tuff!”

Eret snickered turning back to their game and Astrid did the same. Her face had to be red, probably making her look like Hookfang, if not Tytan, once more. She was relieved to have something else to think about, rather than what was happening on the other side of the room.

“Don’t be stingy!” Ragnar demanded across the room, but Astrid refused to look again and took a series of Eret’s hunters with precision.

She did catch a distinct snort from Hiccup, “You two are trying to kill me.”

“Thor’s intended way for you to go, Haddock,” Ragar sassed the Sergeant.

“I’m not going to talk right for a week,” Tuffnut muttered, although she noted that Hiccup was already back to groaning.

As she took Eret’s accomplice, Hiccup huffed, “The village will be eternally grateful… Oh,  _ fuck! _ ”

Ragnar made some sort of humming noise and Astrid was surprised the game didn’t burst into flames from the heat in her face somehow leaking out through her gaze. Glancing up at Eret, he was already refocused on the trio across the room, but she made a decision to take a break and figure out what in the world the blacksmith was playing at. His strategy was a hot mess and she couldn’t figure out what his goal was.

“Fuck, Ragnar,” Hiccup sounded absolutely wrecked, but Astrid couldn’t detect any hint of pain in his tone, whatever the Heathen was doing, “Alright you two, it’s not a competition!”

There wasn’t even a moment of hesitation before the two blonde Vikings chorused, “Yes it is!”

“Odin take me now.”

“Not yet!” Tuff insisted, “I want you inside me first!”

Ragnar sighed, a put on sort of forlorn sound, and huffed out, “I suppose it’s only right. Wouldn’t want to get shipped back down south for another seven years.”

Hiccup snorted, then, “Works out well enough, I suppose…” There was a smacking sound that Astrid recognized as a kiss from when the Haddock often popped one on her mouth in a hurry, “Because I want you inside me.”

Of all the things they’d done tonight, that was what made Astrid’s head shoot up toward the trio, utterly shocked. It wasn’t that she didn’t know how men had sex, her mother had made that very clear, as well as the fact that women could do it to. No, it was just…

“What is it?” Eret asked her, seeing her absolutely startled face. 

Where she was staring at the trio now, who hadn’t even noticed her reaction, the Hofferson just couldn’t look away. Astrid was well aware that her mother wasn’t an altruistic source of information and she’d shared details about her mother’s lessons with all the men the night before, things she’d never thought herself capable of telling anyone. But, knowing what she did about Viking bravado and society, Estrid Hofferson’s insistence that the highest ranking member of a marriage would never, ever, allow that to be done to them, seemed accurate.

By the time she found her voice, Hiccup had his fingers inside of Tuffnut, another process that she’d watched with an intrigued kind of fascination, and Astrid still wasn’t positive how to word her thoughts. Eret may have convinced himself that she wasn’t going to respond, the General wasn’t sure, but when she finally turned to face the blacksmith once more, his gentle gaze was still locked on her.

“I was always told Hiccup would never…” She didn’t know how to say it without the reference sounding like a slight.

Eret understood anyway, and, actually, he looked a little relieved that was all that had struck her, rather than something worse. The largest Viking in the room shrugged, “I’ve heard of men who don’t. Never slept with any of them personally mind you, there is only so much hypocrisy that I’ll tolerate, but the mentality isn’t just a myth. Hiccup has no such qualms.”

“Huh,” was all Astrid managed, her gaze instantly going back to Hiccup and Tuffnut on the bed.

Tuffnut had twisted around on his hands and knees on the bed and Hiccup was behind him. As the Sergeant positioned himself, Astrid caught her first glimpse of her husband’s manhood and, honestly, it made her a little nervous. He was significantly bigger than Tuff, but it was comforting that the Thorston didn’t seem nervous. With the assurance from Eret that this wasn’t either man’s first time doing this, Astrid’s thoughts of how in Thor’s name Hiccup was going to fit inside the High Priest, much less herself, seemed less panic inducing.

Hiccup pressed his cock into Tuff and there was a lot of moaning on both sides, but her friend certainly didn’t look like it hurt. As a matter of fact, the Sergeant was only fully inside of his lover for a moment before the blonde Viking demanded, “Move, Haddock, or your marriage bed will be the place you die!”

All that got out of Hiccup was a laugh, but his hips did start thrusting back and forth.

“Midgard to Blondie,” Tuffnut called out after a few minutes of nothing but gasps, groans, and moans, “I thought you were supposed to be participating in this little soiree?”

That was when it struck Astrid that her cousin had, in fact, disappeared from the trio’s activities.

The Heathen in question didn’t hesitate, offering, “Just taking in the sights for a moment,” by the time that Astrid found him leaning on the wall beside the bed.

His gaze was distinctly pointed in her direction, however. Realizing that he’d been letting her watch, and absolutely refusing to be seen as a struck maiden by Ragnar Lothbrok, Astrid raised a single brow at the Heathen in inquiry. Was that inquisition concerning his gaze on her? His cease in participation? Or even, if he planned on jumping back in?

Astrid had no idea.

But, there was no way in Freyja’s great name that she was going to back down in front of her big brother. Not from anything, least of all Ragnar. She was a Viking!

It didn’t hurt that, as he did in fact move back into action with Tuff and Hiccup, seeming to start putting the Sergeant through the same menstrations with his fingers that the Thorston had partaken in, Astrid was well aware the King of the Heathens would never hurt her or allow her to be hurt. There was even a certain measure of comfort in the fact that Ragnar wasn’t afraid to challenge her, not even at this moment, and had never hesitated to do so.

Eret and she actually managed to play for a few minutes after that. Astrid was a little shocked, because the blacksmith could usually hold his own against her, at least for a while. He never won, but tonight it was like he wasn’t even trying.

That was when it struck her. His mind probably  _ was  _ elsewhere, like across the room. The number one rule of Maces and Talons was that one had to be playing to win.

Glancing up, Astrid bypassed making her next move to stare at Eret’s face.

It took him a moment to look up at her, but once he did, his brow instantly raised in askance.

“If you were participating tonight,” Astrid posed, “What would you be doing?”

His face was the definition of struck for about three seconds, “Umm… What?”

Astrid offered a shrug, “I was just curious, you don’t have to answer.”

Shaking his head, the blacksmith seemed to be trying to shake off his surprise with it, “No, it’s fine. Sorry, I just wasn’t expecting you to ask that tonight…” He looked over at the trio, where Ragnar had come up behind Hiccup and was currently thrusting into the Sergeant, “Well, I guess I’d probably be fucking Hiccup’s mouth.”

“So, he’ll do what Tuff and Ragnar were doing earlier too?”

“Yes.”

Her gaze wandered back over to the trio for what would end up being the final time. They all suddenly seemed more frantic, but Astrid couldn’t quite understand why that was. Tuff gasped something that she missed, and she was so busy trying to figure out what he’d said, that she missed when Hiccup and Ragnar muttered similar utterances simultaneously, before all three of them collapsed on the bed.

They were all sweaty and utterly exhausted from what Astrid could tell. But they seemed no worse for wear. No one was putting on their clothing to leave promptly or rushing to put distance between themselves and their lovers. All three seemed perfectly content to laze there in each other’s arms.

After a few moments more of observing them, Astrid turned back to their imagined battlefield. Eret did the same and all but proved that his earlier moves had been all but played under duress. He tried valiantly to get back into the game, but within two moves Astrid had herself set up for victory.

Using seven consecutive legal moves, Astrid took all of Eret’s pieces and culminated by taking his Viking Chief, winning the game.

“Odin damn it all, Astrid,” The blacksmith cursed, “You don’t have to be brutal like that!”

Hiccup laughed across the room, “Yes she does! That’s Astrid for you.”

She looked up with a grin and realized that the Sergeant managed to get up and put his pants back on without her noticing, because he was currently padding toward them barefoot. Glancing over, Rangar and Tuff were still cleaning themselves up using a small tub that she’d seen earlier, but hadn’t really thought about, and she assumed that Hiccup had already finished.

The first Dragon Rider laughed at his betrothed, taking in all the pieces Astrid still had left, “Alright, out of the way, ametuer.”

“Jerks,” Eret muttered, getting up, although he still stole a kiss from Hiccup on his way over to help Tuff and Ragnar clean up.

Her gaze followed Eret, while Hiccup was resetting the game. Something about the previous trapper’s approach seemed to breathe electricity back through Ragnar’s mischievous Viking being and Astrid was reminded that the two knew each other before she met her friend. The two circled one another for several moments, before it became apparent to the General that the night might not be over just yet.

The most shocking part of the whole thing was that, despite what she’d seen her husband donig, he seemed perfectly content to play Maces and Talons with her like it was any other night. Of course, just like when they’d wasted time doing this out on Dragon’s Edge, playing against Hiccup required every effort and attention that the Hofferson had, so there was no room for straying thoughts. She’d yet to win against Spitelout Jorgenson’s prodigy, but maybe tonight was her lucky night.

...

Waking up the next morning, Hiccup was trapped under a pile of limbs and bodies. Once he, Ragnar, Tuff, and Eret had all exhausted themselves and cleaned up, they wound up pushing three of the guest beds together, so that everyone could sleep in one place. Astrid was on the brunette Viking’s left, using his chest like a pillow, while Eret was behind her with his hulking arm draped across both of them to rest on Hiccup’s right hip. Ragnar was on his other side, all but laying flat across the Sergeant and his face cushioned against his husband’s neck, one arm coming up to still be tangled in the man’s hair. Tuff, the blasted sprawler that he was, was laying on his back, as well as Ragnar’s, arms and legs splayed like a starfish from his place on top of the Heathen.

In other words, Hiccup was well and truly stuck.

Never having been one to enjoy laying around in bed for long mornings, the Sergeant of Arms for Berk tried to occupy his time. He devised a plan for situating the Heathen tribe on Offshoot Isle. Then, because that would take so much work to accomplish, he started making plans for providing work and homes for the five hundred ships worth of people on their way to Berk. He still couldn’t believe his father thought that was a surprise he could pull off; the man wasn’t actually Odin himself, request from his Ergi or not.

He was pulled from his planning when a very persistent Night Fury landed on the roof and called for his attention. Cursing in his mind when none of his spouses moved, Hiccup tried to find a way to move them all without waking anyone, but came up with nothing. Another dragon landed on the roof and called out, but it sounded like a Light Fury; Hiccup wasn’t familiar enough with Snowfall and Brightroar to know which dragon it was.

“You could just wake everyone up.”

Looking down, Hiccup realized that Astrid was awake, she just hadn’t opened her eyes yet, “That seemed rude.”

The dragons roared and started all but jumping up and down on the roof, “Good thing about dragons, Viking manners are beyond them.”

Eret’s soft snoring reminded Astrid of her father, so she was sure that he slept pretty hard. She moved his arm from around her and Hiccup, twisting the sleeping bulk of Viking until he rolled over to face the other direction and sat up. Her experience with Tuffnut sleeping was from their time on the Edge, when they’d all been trapped together during the midnight sun, and their dragons forced them into the cellar to make them sleep. Poking the Thorston in the side until he also rolled over, in the opposite direction of Eret, the final challenge was Ragar. 

Knowing the Heathen King was basically unmovable even in his sleep, Astrid got up and used the only weapon she had in her arsenal; she tickled his bare feet. The Viking didn’t wake up completely, but he jerked and let go of Hiccup, rolling onto his back and kicking at Astrid lightly, to mutter, “Off wench!” in a slur.

Hiccup sat up once he was free, grinning at his General, “Thank you, M’lady!”

On the roof, the dragons roared again. The pair moved quickly to dress, Astrid easily throwing on the same daily outfit that she usually wore, for a second day, while Hiccup had clothes at Eret’s. He was not wearing the armor again today, it wasn’t meant for daily wear and he would throw himself behind his Ergi if the cranky old man tried to give him trouble.

The pair wandered outside and, as it turned out, the Furies demanding their attention were the royal couple themselves, Toothless and Snowfall.

“Do you want to come up to the house?” Hiccup asked her, mounting his energetic and enthusiastic Night Fury, “Dad is always up by now.”

“No,” Astrid dismissed, “I’m going to go check on Dad, most aren’t up yet. A little later I’ll go and get Skjall. We’ll come by then?”

“Sounds good,” Hiccup assured, “We should be there until the race, as long as the fleet doesn’t need any more assistance.”

“They pass Nadder Isle today?”

“Frigga guide them, lest Mama Ingerman sink them.”

That made the Hofferson giggle and she decided to walk to her father’s since it wasn’t far away. Snowfall was at her side as Hiccup and Toothless soared into the sky and up to the Chief’s house to, hopefully, vent all of his plans to his parents. The fun and passion of the previous night was done and the plethora of required work and effort was upon them.

Walking into the house, the first thing that Hiccup did was look around and take in the whole room. From the noises coming from his father’s bedspace, his mother and Gobber were still asleep, snoring obnoxiously, but not their other spouses. The Chief and his Commander were at the main table, Stoick the Vast in his normal chair and his husband standing to gaze over a large number of maps.

Coming closer Hiccup realized that they were varied maps, cobbled together to represent the whole of the North, and there were markers scattered all over them.

His father had done a lot of whittling in the last year and apparently he’d carved a lot of dragons in that time. It wasn’t hard to figure out which dragon represented each of their allies, from the Wing Maidens shown by a Razorwhip, Defenders of the Wing with an Eruptodon, and the Berserker Tribe had their traditional bear, because Dagur always had to be contradictory. Hiccup wasn’t even surprised by that, or Berk being shown proudly as a Night Fury.

There was a pile of other dragon figurines that Hiccup wandered over to look at.

“Well, someone is up early after a long night,” Grimmel noted.

“Probably hung over and looking for something to take the edge off,” Stoick predicted. It could have been judgemental, if the Chief wasn’t pointing to a couple of flower buds called Hope of Frigga, already sitting out on the table with them and clearly meant for his son.

“Not as much as you might think,” Hiccup told them, not immediately running for the petals as they’d predicted. He picked up a couple of his father’s homemade trinkets before wandering toward the older pair, “I consumed in moderation. Ruff and Snotlout are going to be real joys though; neither could handle their siblings getting married.”

He wasn’t immune to all the spirits he’d consumed throughout yesterday either, so he still swallowed both quickly. They weren’t as powerful as a bud like Tongue of Loki, that shit had you numb and relaxed for days, but they were still powerful. Hiccup hadn't gone near anything like either herb since the first two weeks after the Battle of the Red Death. Even with the lesser flowers, Hiccup wouldn’t be touching anything except the socially necessary sips at the feast tonight.

Giving the buds a few minutes to digest on his empty stomach, Hiccup listened as his parents went back to their conversation.

"It makes no sense, Stoick. Having two full forges is ludicrous and the forge in the Great Hall is better stationed in case of attack."

"I'm not arguing with your logic. Just for the peace of mind of the whole damn island."

Hiccup snorted catching onto the implications.

"You are retiring. I am going to start looking for Berk's next Commander," Grimmel pointed a thumb toward the bed, "Even Val won't have a title anymore by First Snowfall, honorary as it is. It makes sense."

"My previous statement still stands," the Chief muttered, "I don't see you offering to broach the topic."

The Commander sighed, "You know he's only going to listen to you."

Stoick snorted.

"I'll do it."

Both of his fathers startled, staring at Hiccup like he'd grown another head. Knowing they were thinking him suicidal, possibly that two Hope of Frigga had been too much, the Sergeant shrugged and peered at the largest Viking among them, "I need your help with something I found out about last night anyway."

"What's that?" Grimmel demanded before his husband even could.

Hiccup glanced back at his parents bed, but both the aging blacksmith and dragonlady were unconscious to the world, and their discussion, "Last night it became apparent that there is… tension, between Mom and Gertrude Jorgenson."

When his father flinched, the Sergeant realized that the information wasn't completely new. It was just like his father and Spitelout to leave the personal problem unresolved in their winter haze this past year, probably hoping that it would resolve itself. The problem clearly wasn't going away though, and Hiccup knew that if he tried to handle it, the situation would only get far worse before it got better.

Grimmel hummed. His best friend had failed to mention that, but he could rightly imagine why. Despite all the shit that he'd given Spitelout since their teenage years for falling for a Berserker, the truth was that he felt a kernel of burning connection knowing Gertrude was angry too. He'd have to find time with the woman soon.

Placing the Monstrous Nightmare figurine in his hand on Offshoot Isle, a Bewilderbeast at the southernmost part of the North, and a Sentinel over Vanaheim, Hiccup sat down across from his father, leaving his Ergi standing between them, “We’ve got to get this mess sorted, before it makes Ragnarok look like kids play."

Stoick hummed, taking in the new pieces on their plans.

"With all the work that is going to be establishing a human population on Offshoot, having two forges will be to our benefit for the next couple of months," Hiccup pointed out, "Once Gobber's husband is no longer Chief, I'll talk to him about accepting his Elder status. If you'll handle this thing between the mothers."

Grimmel had to agree, still taking in the new markers. Stationing a Bewilderbeast at the start of the North was smart. It would bring dragons up from the south and replace the Heathen army as a preventative for the War Lords’ gaining entry with any massive army. An inversion of what the South tried to do with Bludvist, only this would work, “He’s right, if we don’t get ourselves into position, the War Lords will have us bent, if not prostrate, in a moment.”

Hiccup growled, sounding not unlike his Night Fury, “We are Vikings. We do not kneel.”

"It's a deal, then," Stoick acknowledged, dreading his end as he was.

"Right, then we need plans for storm lodging for the fleet and Heathens, getting the fleet reception actualized," Hiccup started to list off, "Prioritizing the work to start at Offshoot, and finding and training another Bewilderbeast to go south… I wonder if Toothless could track Bludvists'? He was older than Kingsbane and will answer to a dragon that bested him."

Grimmel nodded, "He should be able to. We'd have to make plans for you to take your original team, however, I'm sure he went for distance. It could take you awhile to find him."

"If we left after the middle marriage, Eret could stay to help the fleet adjust. We'd be back before the final race," Hiccup proposed.

“Eh,” Stoick shrugged, “Even with the fleet, Berk can handle it’s current population until the end of Racing Season. As long as we have a plan by then, everything’s fine.”

Hiccup reeled back, “Who are you and where in Odin’s name is my father?”

Grimmel snorted.

“Right here, don’t get your knickers in a twist,” Stoick chuckled and got up, moving toward an old chest his father had left to him, where it sat in his bedspace, “You are married now, as it were…”

Hiccup couldn’t tell what the man pulled out, but he got the distinct impression that marrying Ragnar was about to get paid back to him in full. When his father’s bundle was placed on the table between them, amid the dragon markers on their maps, he knew he was right. As he realized, his breath caught in his throat. Even if it was just symbolic, for another two months, he hadn’t thought that his father already had it.

His bear skin fur sat proudly on the table, the color black as night.

“After all, I’m just an Elder in these parts,  _ Chief _ .”


	6. Epilogue

_ This is Berk. _

_ Host to the sort of icy despairing weather that first forged men into Vikings! It’s located at the very edge of Helheim’s gate, making it the perfect capital for The Northern Kingdom, where we do not kneel! _

_ Our village, in a word, intricate. We’ve got lofted stables and homes, indoor plumbing, floating docks the likes of which you’ll never find anywhere else, and the most famous hospital in the North, where miracles are worked everyday by our healers. _

_ The only problems here are the encroachers. Where some people have wild boars or bears, maybe the rogue titan wing, not us. We’ve got Southeron war mongers with no other goal then to take over the world and make people submit to them. You’d think after three generations of sending them running they’d take a hint, but not them. Every idiot that manages to survive the ice, be it with a small army behind them or as a solo act, wants to be the one to take the Dragonshore for the South. _

_ Oh, I see you’ve noticed the living embodiment of Freyja, wielding an axe and dispatching ten Southerons single handedly. That’s Astrid Haddock, Queen of the North, and the toughest person you’ll meet this side of Valhalla. She also happens to be my mother. _

_ The blonde man giving commentary on her fighting stance, while lounging on one of the outdoor benches in the main square? That’s my Ergi, Ragnar Lothbrok, King of the Heathen Tribe and Bane of the South. He tends to only involve himself in battles on Berk, if one of the Southeron morons makes it personal; attacks on Offshoot Isle, or his people, that’s a different story. _

_ The small annoying blonde all but laying on his chest and cheering the fight? That’s Nuffink, my little brother. He’s sworn to annihilate the War Mongers and fancies himself the next King of the Heathen tribe. If he’s not too busy crying over Ergi’s final ship throughout the entire Trial by Combat, that is.  _

_ The small white and black beast of burden at his feet, spitting plasma at the Southerons with an inverted version of himself at his side? That’s Nuff’s dragon, Pouncer. The other black and white cretin? That’s Ruffrunner. They like to give their version of commentary too. _

_ Hmm? Oh, yeah, the roaring startles most people. That’s aerial support flying in, led by the King of the Dragons, Toothless. He’s been my father’s best friend since they were kids. That Night Fury puts fear into the hearts of all Southerons with only one look!  _

_ One day, when his daughter, Dart, and I are big enough, then she’s going to be my dragon! Dart, Pouncer, and Ruffrunner are all Night Lights; aptly named because their mother, Snowfall, is a Light Fury. See, the North used to be at war with the dragons, but that all changed when… _

_ Look out! _

_ Oomph… Gotta love an early morning siege on Berk. This dragon that was so nice to aid us? His name is Mischiefmaker and he’s a Prickleboggle.  _

_ His rider, that’s my Ergi Tuff. Originally a Thorston, now he’s the High Priest of Berk, the Greatest Medicine Man in all of the North, and Captain of the First Responders on our island. He’s been bailing me out of sticky situations like that one since I was a baby.  _

_ Yes, I am making friends and getting into trouble rather early; can’t imagine where I get that from! _

_ I’d hang on to him tight if I were you, Mischiefmaker is pretty fast. _

_ This is the Great Hall; the central point of Berk since Vikings first came here. It hosts as the military center for all of the North and has seen us through every attack.  _

_ Of course, I’m going to go straight inside, Ergi! Where else would I go? _

_ Is that the aid horn? Let’s go see who else knew this attack was coming! Don’t worry so much, we’ll go right inside after. The ladders wouldn’t be here if we weren’t supposed to use them! _

_ Oh look, aerial and naval support coming to drill these Southerons from behind as well. Seems a little excessive for a mere fleet of three hundred if you ask me. Looks like somebody just wanted an excuse to visit Berk for the start of the Racing Season. _

_ That sigil of a roaring bear with arrows sticking out of its back? That means it’s the Berserker Tribe and my Uncle Dagur charging in fast. I don’t see any banners for Defenders of the Wing, so Aunt Mala must have stayed home to run things this season. How sad, she’s as fierce as Mom, but someone’s gotta aid their bewilderbeast in keeping the Southerons out of the North’s warmest parts. _

_ Come on! _

_ Ever since my Grandpa Gobber accepted his elder status, and the old forge was turned into the hospital when I was a baby, the main forge for Berk has been here in the Great Hall. That huge hulk running this show of arms and fire, that’s Eret, son of Eret, and my other Ergi. I’ve been his apprentice since I was little. How he manages to keep this massive operation of chaos and steel running is anyone’s guess.  _

_ Overslept? The sun hasn’t even started rising yet, old man! _

_ Me? Right, maybe I should have led with that. My name is Zephyr, Heir to the Hooligan tribe of Berk and, one day, I’ll be the Queen of the Vikings. That means that at some point in my lot, this entire operation is going to fall on me to manage.  _

_ All hope is lost! _

_ Of course that’s a long way off anyway, because at the moment this mess falls to… _

_ Him. _

_ That momentary spark of electricity always follows my father around, don’t be alarmed. The god masquerading as a mere mortal just can’t help himself. Oh, that’s him alright, standing over his war table and issuing orders with his council.  _

_ The council consists of my uncles, Fishlegs Ingerman, Naval Master and Commander of Berk's Fleet, and Snotlout Jorgenson, the General of Berk, as well as my aunts Ruffnut Ingerman, originally Thorston, the Mistress of Coin, and Heather Jorgenson, the Sergeant of Arms for Berk. The Hand of the King is Gustav Larson, who was pretty much apprenticing under the King since before the man had any titles at all. _

_ No one ever really has to ask who is in charge around here. My father wears fireproof armor made of Night Fury scales and, on formal occasions, a black bear skin that looks like it was taken from the hide of Mor’du himself, which was given to him by my Grandpa Stoick when he became Chief. His preferred weapons are forged of dragon metal by his own hand and called Peacekeeper and the Shield of Range. The first is a massive sword which ignites on his command and the latter is a shield that doubles as a crossbow. _

_ Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third, King of the Vikings and Protector of the North, Chief of the Hooligan tribe, and the Rider of the Alpha Dragon is an unmistakable specimen of accomplishment. He’s been defending the Dragonshore that is Berk, since before I was even born. This is just a standard day for him.  _

_ They say that when he was fifteen years old he single handedly ended the War with Dragons and defeated a Red Death to defend Berk’s people. By seventeen he’d established his own dragon stronghold and entered into the war with the Southerons. And at twenty, he took the head of Drago Bludvist, the War Mongers’ only attempt to establish their sordid version of a dragon army. According to legend, he was the only man ever capable of uniting all Vikings, allying them with our previous dragon enemies, and protecting our way of life through the Way of the Hammer. _

_ Do I believe it? _

Yes, I do.


End file.
